


Friends and Benefits

by Megara Bee (Megara_Bee)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Friends With Benefits, Light BDSM, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teachers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megara_Bee/pseuds/Megara%20Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The librarian Belle French has always fancied Mr. Gold, the standoffish chemistry teacher, and the attraction is mutual. However, neither is quite ready to ask for the relationship they really want. Instead, they decide to make up a new contract - friends with benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flirting in the Library

“You know, Mr. Gold, there are better ways to garner respect than instilling fear into your students’ hearts.”

“Perhaps, but none are quite so fun.” He gave the librarian one of his toothy grins, the special smile reserved just for her. His smiles had such a lovely conspiratorial glow; whenever he bestowed one upon her, Belle felt a flutter in her stomach.

She was feeling the flutter now, and hoped that she wasn’t blushing too much. After four years of working together and three years of being close friends, he still made her feel like a schoolgirl.

“I see that Facebook tab open, Miss Swan. Would you like me to call your father?” Gold barked, watching the girl jump and scramble to close the browser window. Duty done, he leaned back against the reference desk. “I do enjoy watching them squirm.”

Belle swatted his arm, leaning forward across the desk and resting her head in her hands. “What are they working on, anyway?”

“Researching jobs that require a thorough knowledge of chemistry. Applicability of their education, or some nonsense. I remember the days when students didn’t need motivation to do their work, you just did as you were told!”

“Like you ever did as you were told.”

“Miss French,” he said, raising a hand to his chest in mock incredulity, “I was a remarkable student.”

“I bet you found every loophole in every assignment, bending the rules to your whims. Those poor teachers.”

“I find your surprisingly apt assessment to be very offensive, Miss French.”

“Well, perhaps you’d like to make an insight of your own.”

“Alright. Hmmm,” he said, turning to look her up and down dramatically. “I’d wager that you were a good student overall, turning in perfect work, never struggling to understand things, but once in a while you’d get overwhelmed and turn in all your assignments late until you had a break to catch up.”

“You’ve got me down to a T, Mr. Gold.” There was a pause, his dark amber eyes appraising her blue ones.

“I’ll bet you five dollars the Thompson boy is instant messaging again. Pardon me, Miss French.”

She watched him walk away, stealthy despite his cane. Her propriety fell for a moment, and she took stock of some of his more favorable attributes. His slender waist, offset by curvaceous buttocks; the way his tailored suits showed off his shoulders; his greying hair tickling the column of his neck. Oh, how she longed to kiss that neck.

For years now, Belle French had been pining after the chemistry teacher at Storybrooke High. Mr. Gold was as infamous as he was sexy; he was no friendlier with his colleagues than he was with his students, but his talent and their test scores were undeniable. He also had a remarkable ability to inspire, many of his students entering science-related fields within five years of graduating.

She’d been warned to stay away from him in her first week as the school librarian. It wasn’t actually hard to stay away, since the man avoided other staff members like the plague: he didn’t eat in the staff room, he came in extra early to use the copier, and he locked his door during his prep period. Belle had been intrigued, actually, by the mystery of the man. It had taken some early morning coffee and persistent smiles, but she’d finally broken him down. With much exasperation, he’d begrudgingly agreed to have lunch with her once per week.

At first she’d wanted nothing but friendship, being nearly engaged herself. Gaston Grey, the gym teacher, had been the one to get her the job. She’d been the one the dump him and he’d been the one to slash her car tires.

It was hard for both of them.

Or rather, Gaston had been upset until the following August, when the new Spanish teacher had caught his eye and he’d thrown himself into her bed shamelessly, Belle apparently being easily forgotten.

Belle still found it hard to be around him, equal parts guilty and resentful. She didn’t have many close friends on the staff, but she had Rumford Gold. He didn’t gossip about her in the staffroom. He didn’t judge or belittle her for her choices. He continued to treat her as an intelligent colleague and a worthy person and for that she was incredibly grateful.

A natural attraction hadn’t taken much time to blossom; Mr. Gold was very good looking, and had a wicked sense of humor. Belle’s best days were always the ones spent in his company, days like today, for example. Two chemistry classes meant two classes in the library doing research: ninety minutes of Mr. Gold. Plus lunch, if he didn’t have a meeting, and maybe she could sneak over during his planning period… Up to three hours, potentially. These were the days she loved.

He sauntered back, looking very much like the cat that caught the canary. “Did I miss anything terribly interesting?”

Belle pretended to look around. “Well, it seems the Dewey Decimal system is still in place, no massive earthquakes have opened chasms beneath my feet… I’d say we’re doing alright.”

He tweaked her nose. She blushed, hoping no students had seen.

“Miss French, could I persuade you to join me for lunch today? I still haven’t gotten the hang of proportions, so I’ve got quite enough lamb stew for two.”

“A rhyme and an invitation? Well, if you’ll call me Belle as I ‘ve asked you to do a thousand times, I suppose I’ll say yes.”

“Please, Belle?”

“I’d love to. So, your cooking class is going well?”

“It’s fantastic! Bae loves it as well. We have so much fun cooking together, and we’re both eating healthier now. I’m glad you suggested it.”

She smiled, before a student interrupted her with a question. She got distracted, helping the student find books on amphibians, and soon the bell was clanging away. She dashed back to the front, just in time to wave goodbye to her chemistry teacher. Belle huffed and slumped against the desk.

There was never enough time.


	2. Bad Attitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's having a rough week.

That Friday there was a school assembly. Belle took her seat on the side of the gym and hoped she didn’t look too tired. This week had not been kind. Each nigh found her hot and writhing beneath the covers, haunted by dreams of Mr. Gold taking her from behind at the reference desk, and she’d become almost totally sleepless. Even worse, despite hours of masturbation, she couldn’t seem to cross the threshold from frustration to release. Hence her frustration and bad attitude.

Her hair was tangled and messy, she was wearing flats instead of her usual heels, and she had bags under her eyes the size of Michigan.

Please, God, let this week be over.

She squirmed in her seat, the perpetual tension in her belly making her uncomfortable. The kids all streamed into the auditorium, dancing along to some God awful pop song, and her head began to pound from the noise. She saw Mr. Gold creep in, check on his kids, and slip back out again. He didn’t see her. Then the principal got up and began to drone on about test scores and soccer games, and Belle’s mind began to drift until she heard Gaston’s name.

“Mr. Grey and Miss Espinoza have an announcement they’d like to share with you all.”

The kids cheered as the two teachers walked to the front and Gaston took the mic.

“Miss Espinoza is no longer going to be teaching here.”

The kids booed.

“She’s going to become Mrs. Grey!” He grabbed her hand and raised it up. They both grinned, clearly happy and in love.

The cheers were deafening. Belle felt sick.

Next thing she knew, she was walking down the hall, hands crossed over her stomach, beads of sweat chilling her forehead. The clicking of her heels on the linoleum steadied her as she passed the bathroom. She headed instead for Gold’s classroom, twisting the knob and pleased to find it unlocked.

“Belle, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t stand up,” she said, voice commanding. He sank back into his chair.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You look ill.”

Finally she reached his side, grabbing one of his hands in hers. “I need… I need…” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, unable to articulate any further. He was searching her eyes, and she hoped he’d forgive her. “I need you,” she whimpered, drawing his hand beneath her skirt to press against her through her underwear.

It took him just a few seconds to register. With surprising courage and clarity, he said, “Alright. Come here sweetheart, sit here on my good leg.” He turned her around and guided her to sit on his left thigh, drawing her torso back against his. Her head was nestled against his right shoulder. He wrapped his right arm around her middle, undid the bottom buttons of her blouse, slid his hand in, and gently stroked her stomach. His left he worked under his skirt, stroking her through her underwear. She whimpered, wriggling against him.

“Shh, it’s alright Belle. Tell me what you need.”

“More contact, please. I need you to touch me.”

“As you wish,” he whispered, voice husky. He pushed her panties aside, fingers tracing her labia. She was slick with arousal, and he circled her clit a few times before pressing a digit inside. She groaned, back arching. He worked in and out; soon he added a second finger.

He sighed with contentment, enjoying the way she moaned when he crooked his fingers, coming close to the place that set her skin on fire. Belle reached one arm up and back, clumsily winding her hand into his hair. She was whimpering as she came close to the elusive orgasm. He slipped his fingers out of her to rub her clit, pressing his lips to her neck in a messy kiss.

She came, back arching away from his, body convulsing. Her breathless gasps echoed in the silent classroom. When she collapsed back against him, panting and eyes shut, Gold couldn’t help a small smile. He continued to stroke the soft skin of her stomach, sucking his fingers clean before wrapping his other hand around her legs. He rocked gently.

“So… would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”

Belle sighed. “The assembly. Gaston, he’s… he’s getting married.”

“Ah,” he said, pausing. “You’re jealous?”

At that Belle gave a harsh laugh. “Gods, no! Dumping that asshole was the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s just… We’ve been broken up for about three years. He’s getting married, and I can’t even jerk myself off properly.”

It was Gold’s turn to chuckle.

“I just… I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. In three years I’ve had a couple of one-night stands and a whole lot of Pinot Grigio. What’s wrong with me that no one wants me?”

“You listen to me, Belle; there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Someday, you will find someone you deserve who also deserves you, and then you will have that creampuff wedding that little girls dream of. Don’t put yourself down, darling.”

Belle smiled, turning her head into his shoulder. “Thank you. And for your information, I never dreamed of a big wedding.”

“No?”

“Nope. I wanted to get married in a field, on horseback, surrounded by all my favorite teddy bears.”

Gold snorted. Belle smacked his chest.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“Okay, sorry, sorry.”

There was a pause.

“Were you married? Before, to Bae’s mum?”

“Yes, we were. We were never happy, though, and neither was the wedding. Courthouse affair, just us and the witnesses… the bride wore green.”

“I’m sorry you weren’t happy.”

“Don’t be. I got Bae.”

The bell rang.

“That’s our cue, Dearie. As much as I’ve enjoyed…. this…”

“Erm, yeah,” she said, standing up, a little uneasy on her feet. “Thank you, Rumford. I can’t tell you how much…. how badly…”

“Don’t worry about it. You might want to, um, clean up a bit. Before returning to the library.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Thanks. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. See you later.”

She smiled nervously at him over her shoulder as she left, door falling shut behind her.


	3. Old Buddy

He had just made love to Belle French. Rumford Gold stared at the chalkboard as his students performed their lab, eyeing him nervously. He was rarely so still. However, he had just finger-fucked the love of his life, so they’d have to forgive a little odd behavior.

His fingers still smelled like her. He leant his hand on his closed fists, inhaling her. Gods, she was so beautiful. He could easily wax poetic about her brilliant eyes, her full lips, the way her face lit up when she smiled, her alabaster collarbones, her narrow but curving hips…

It wasn’t just her beauty, though, that had so ensnared the old man’s heart. It was her wit. It was her eternal kindness, her perseverance, her gentleness. It was _her_. Gods, he loved her. Had done since she first forced herself on him going on four years ago. She was so damn persistent; adamant that he make small talk with her on a regular basis, ambushing him during his prep period… She wanted to be friends, apparently, and was not going to take ‘No’ for an answer.

It was absolutely endearing, in the most annoying way possible.

He’d been living miserably ever since, desperate for her time and attention. His heart skipped a beat whenever she gave him one of her most secret smiles, the ones with closed lips and a knowing gleam in the eye. Those were just for him.

He would have been content (moderately content) to go the rest of his life with just their professional relationship. He could speak to her about anything, even his son, without feeling judged or pitied. She was a rare creature.

And if he thought of her from time to time, hand wrapped around his cock in the shower, well, that didn’t make him a bad man, did it? But he had never dreamed that they’d do anything together. The way her walls had clenched around his fingers… Gods, if that wasn’t Heaven, then he wasn’t interested in eternal life.

Now came the tricky part.

Would their relationship change? He doubted a young woman like her would want to be shackled to an irritable old cripple like himself. From their post-coital talk, it seemed that she wanted to get married, someday, but hadn’t been in any serious relationship for some time. His heart had soared a bit at that, to think that she’d been somehow as influenced by him as he had been by her…

 But of course that wouldn’t last. She was young. She’d want a family, a life, eventually. And he’d stand by her side all the while. Fuck, he’d plan the bloody wedding if she asked.

She probably wouldn’t want to continue…. any such activities. She’d come to him and say, _It was a mistake. Thanks for scratching that itch, old buddy old pal, but it can’t happen again._ And he’d fall at her feet like a puppy dog, with ‘Of course, I understand. No hard feelings. Lunch tomorrow?’

He had to speak to her before going home. He wouldn’t be able to rest with this anxiety under his skin. Uncertainty was too much for his old bones to handle.


	4. The Talk

He’d been inside her. Belle chewed the end of her pencil, fidgeting as she sat at her desk. Some kids were wandering about, and really she should be watching them more closely, but….

His fingers had played her like a violin. She’d certainly vibrated like a string, shaking in his arms as her orgasm sent her to places she couldn’t recreate on her own. It had been…. incredible. Amazing. Everything she’d dreamed about for the last three years. Too good to be true.

He wouldn’t want to see her, wouldn’t want to be tied to a silly, infatuated girl. Not that she was a girl, closer to thirty than twenty, but to him she must have seemed a girl. He already had a family. He wouldn’t want a serious relationship.

Belle sighed. She didn’t want to go back to lunches and witty banter. She wanted _more._ She ached for a piece of him that was just hers; a chance to be consumed by passion and love and _lust_ until the rest of the world fell away and he was totally, completely _hers._

Was that so much to ask for?

She groaned, dropping her head to her desk

She couldn’t force herself upon him. Maybe she could…. alter their relationship. Offer him some ground between their friendship and an actual relationship. Halfway.

When the final bell rang, she ushered the stragglers out, ignoring their complaints, locking the door. She worked her way down to his room, squeezing in past the last fleeing students.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he said, coughing nervously. “Come in.”

She dragged a stool over to his desk and perched, clearing her throat. “So, um… I thought we should talk.”

“I agree.”

“Um, well… I had a very nice time… earlier.”

“I did as well.” Gold said, preparing himself for the worst.

“So I was thinking…. Maybe we should alter the parameters of our relationship.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Alter how?”

“Well, I treasure our friendship, but I also want… would like… today. But, more than today? If that makes any sense.”

He coughed lightly. “Yes, I think I understand what you mean. Adding physical education to our class schedule, as it were.”

She smiled at his awkward metaphor. “Yes, exactly.”

“I’m on board. If… that’s all you want?”

Belle, always well-intentioned, totally misinterpreted the question. She heard: ‘ _You won’t ask me for a relationship?’_ and eagerly replied, “Yes! That’s all.”

She could not have pierced his heart more surely had she used a bow and arrow.

“Well then, we had better set some rules.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Gold grabbed a notepad and pen from his desk drawer. “What is this sort of thing called, exactly?”

“I like the term “Friends with Benefits.” Because we are friends… aren’t we?”

“Of course. So, friends with benefits. I suppose we should avoid traditional romantic gestures, then.”

“Uh, right. No dates or dinners.”

“Do our lunches count as dates?” he asked.

“No! No… besides, it’d be odd if we stopped suddenly.”

“Yes, good. I like our lunches.”

They shared a smile.

“Okay,” Belle continued, “um… no gifts.”

“Right. No sex at school?”

“Oh… we probably should…” Belle said, biting her lower lip.

“But?”

“But we’ve already broken that rule. No point in writing down.” She grinned mischievously.

“Ah, right,” he smirked. “What about home visits?”

“Acceptable. Beds are nice too.”

“I’ll have to make arrangements for Bae.”

“Of course.”

“No sleeping over?”

Belle hummed. “I guess that would be a good idea.”

“But…I hate driving at night.”

“Well then,” she smiled, “I guess we’ll allow sleeping over. No breakfast though.”

“I just like coffee.”

“Agreed.” Belle thought for a moment. “Condoms always.”

“Definitely,” he said, diligently scribbling away. “What about seeing other people?”

There was a long pause.

“If you want.”

“If _you_ want.”

“Rumford.”

“Belle.”

She sighed. “Let’s skip it. We’ll address it if we need to.”

“Agreed.” He put the pen down. “Done?”

“Definitely.”

“So… when do you want to consummate the relationship?”

Belle gave him a close-lipped grin, one of his favorites. “I guess the next time Bae has a sleepover.”

“He’ll be out tomorrow night. My place around 9?”

“Sure,” she laughed. “I’ll bring the wine.”

“Getting me drunk, Miss French?”

“Do I need to?”

“Not at all. You know, if you can’t wait that long, I’ve always had a bit of a librarian fantasy.”

“Oh really?” Belle chuckled. “Well, I think I’d like to wait until tomorrow. I was just brought to the peak of ecstasy by a very handsome man not four hours ago.”

He grinned salaciously. “I’m glad you’re sated.”

Belle put the stool back and headed for the door, pausing with her hand on the knob. “We should try out that fantasy of yours… eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I have a bit of a thing for teachers.”

Gold watched her leave, dopey look on his face.


	5. The First (Second?) Time

Belle took a few deep breaths in her car. She hadn’t expected to be so nervous. He’d already brought her off in his classroom, so this was pretty much guaranteed to be a pleasant experience. And yet…

Her heart fluttered as she walked up to the door. She had the wine bottle clutched in one hand, the other fidgeting with the hem of her dress. It was a sundress, shorter than she usually wore, but flattering to her figure and comfortable. She rang the bell.

She heard the thump of his cane before he opened the door, grinning at her nervously. “You look lovely. Come on in.”

“Thanks. You look nice as well! I’ve never seen you so dressed-down.” He wore a crimson button-up shirt and slacks, but Belle had never seen him in less than a full suit.

“Shall we open the wine?” He gestured towards what appeared to be a well-furnished kitchen, but Belle balked.

“Actually, I think I’d just like to go upstairs.”

He gulped. “Oh. Alright.”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. I’ve just never been with someone so eager.” He set the bottle on the side table.

“Not even your wife?”

“Milly? Gods no. I’m afraid she considered me quite incompetent.”

Belle stared at him. “Incompetent? I’m no expert in this department, exactly, but based on yesterday, I doubt that’s true.”

“Only one way to find out,” he said, offering her a hand. She took it, grinning. Like children, they held hands as they climbed the stairs to the master bedroom.

Gold opened the door and Belle gasped, looking around. “Did you design this yourself?”

He nodded.

“It’s gorgeous!” The room was furnished in deep purple and cream, the dark hardwood floors matching the furniture. Belle gaped for a moment, squeezing his hand still clutched in hers. “How can your classroom walls be bare when you have such a talent for decorating?”

“I guess it comes down to dedication.”

“You aren’t dedicated to your work?”

“I’m more dedicated to anything-- _anyone_ I bring here.” Raising their hands into the air, he twirled her several times until she was caught in his arms, back pressed against his front. For a moment he just held her, breathing in her jasmine shampoo. Belle leaned against him and sighed, butterflies in her stomach beginning to settle.

She turned in his arms, running her hands up his chest. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“No,” he said, voice gentle, caressing the bare skin of her upper arms. “Are you?”

“Not at all.” She bit her lip. “I think that’s what scares me.”

“Glad to know I’m not alone in that boat, then,” he whispered. He bent his head and captured her lips, pleased to feel the way she melted against him. Belle was surprised at the softness of his mouth, the deft way that he guided her in the kiss.

When they parted, nearly breathless, Belle smiled. “Incompetent my ass.”

“Not bad for a first, huh?”

“Oh Gods, that was our first kiss. You’ve been inside me!” Belle laughed. They shared a wry smile.

“Perhaps a second would balance us out,” he whispered, already moving in for another.

Tender kisses gave way to tilting and deepening, slanted mouths, probing tongues. Each mused on the taste of their partner as they became more and more passionate. Belle began to tug at his clothes, pulling his shirt free from his pants and wresting buttons from their holes. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her waist, hands flirting with the top of her ass as he walked her backwards towards the bed.

When she felt the mattress against her thighs, Belle broke the kiss. She sat down and crawled backwards, licking her swollen lips.

 “Are you coming, Rumford?”

“Just a moment, I want to drink this in. It’s not every day a beautiful woman climbs into my bed.”

“Not every day, but I’m free on most weekends.”

He growled, crawling atop her and raising a hand to cup her face. “You are so beautiful. May I undress you?”

“Please.”

He drew his hand down her neck and across her shoulder, catching the straps of both her dress and her bra. His lips followed the path of his hand, pressing kisses to her soft skin. He paused at her collarbone before moving over across her shoulder, tugging the straps down as he kissed.

Belle sighed as he worked his way across her upper chest. He shifted his weight to the other side, switching hands and nibbling at her collarbone as he worked the other side of her dress down.

“Ohh, Rumford,” she purred, sliding one hand into his hair. She tugged once through his locks before letting go, allowing him to lavish kisses upon her newly bared shoulder. Too soon he was pulling away, lifting himself up on one arm, hand tracing the neckline of her dress. Belle, raised on her elbows, watched as he slowly undid each of the pearlescent buttons until he could slide a hand inside the front of her dress. He cupped a breast, fingers squeezing.

He groaned, dropping his head to pay homage to the newly exposed flesh. He kissed the skin not covered by her plunge bra, nuzzling the valley between her breasts. To Belle’s delight, he continued south until he had to climb off the bed, grumbling as he pushed up her skirts to gather at her hips. He grabbed the chair from his desk and set it down at her feet.

“I hope you don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“Not at al- oh!” Gold had slid his arms beneath her thighs and tugged her closer. She continued to sigh and whimper as he kissed the delicate skin from her knees to her hips, flirting with the lines of her underwear. She cried out when he pressed his face against her vulva, inhaling her through the crotch of her black panties, her hips thrusting against him. “Oh Gods!”

“You smell wonderful,” he growled. “Please let me take these off.”

He waited for her nod and breathless grunt before pulling away, fingers hooked in the fabric around her hips. He pulled them down to her knees, guiding her legs up in the air until he could fling away the last barrier between him and her slick folds.

Legs back on the bed, spread wide, Gold growled as he bent over to place a gentle kiss against her pussy lips. Belle squirmed, gasping. She was surprised at her own sensitivity. He pressed on; pressing kisses up and down her slit with a few well-placed on her clit. He flicked his tongue across the nub and was rewarded with her cries, hips shifting restlessly. He traced those lips with his tongue next, and then ventured to slide it into her.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, feet flexing against his chair.

“Ms. French! What a mouth for a librarian.” He redoubled his efforts, kissing and sucking all along her vulva, listening to her cries for indications of what she liked best.

He slid one hand along a creamy thigh, gently massaging the flesh. He pressed digit into her as he set his tongue to work on her bundle of nerves. Belle gave a throaty moan and reached out, the fingers of one hand had winding their way into his hair, encouraging him. He licked in patterns as his finger moved in and out, her hips tilting beneath his ministrations.

Gold lifted his other arm to press gently against her hips. “Settle, precious.”

She whined. He slipped in a second finger and began thrusting with more intention. He crooked them, eliciting a cry, and sped up the movements of his tongue. Her thighs flexed, squeezing against his head. After a few minutes, he wrapped his lips around her clit and gave it a powerful suck.

Belle came. Her hand tightened in his hair as tremors shook her body. Waves of heat rolled through her as she quivered, back arched off the bed; finally she collapsed against the purple bedspread, breathing heavily.

Gold withdrew his fingers and sucked them clean, smirking. Belle took a moment to regain her clarity before lifting herself onto one elbow, raising the other arm to beckon Rumford. He crawled onto the bed once more, holding himself above her.

“Kiss me.”

He did as he was bade. Belle moaned softly, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like her, like the most intimate part of her, and she felt a deep thrill of arousal. She buried her hands in his hair again, holding him close and kissing him passionately. When he finally pulled away for air, she growled, biting her lip.

“I wasn’t done with you.”

“My darling, as long as we’re alone, you are always welcome to my kisses. However, I do need to breathe.”

She grinned. “The same goes for you, Rumford. You can always kiss me. Okay?” She tightened her grip in his hair to drive her point home.

He nodded.

“That’s my sweet boy. Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“You’re still half-dressed yourself.”

“Isn’t it awful?” she chirped, hands pushing his shirt off his shoulders. Sitting upright, he threw it to the floor. Belle undid his belt, deft fingers making fast work of his trousers. He stood, kicking off his shoes and stripping to his boxers. She scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling her own dress off over her head and flinging it away. When she reached for his underwear, he stilled her hand.

“Are you sure, pet? It might disappoint you... I might.”

“First of all, I can see you through the cotton, Rumford, and I’m definitely not disappointed. Secondly, _I want you._ Let me give you the pleasure that you’ve given me twice now.”

He groaned as she cupped him, hand gently stroking up and down his shaft through his boxers. He offered no hesitation as she pushed them down his legs, freeing his hard cock. He expected to see some sign of regret in her eyes, some disgust, but he saw only lust and wonder as she took in the sight of him, biting her lip. She pressed a tender kiss to the tip and he could have died.

“Careful, sweetheart. I won’t last long.”

“Then we’d better hurry. Condom?”

“Trousers.”

She slipped off the bed. Hands on his shoulders, she urged him back onto the bed before retrieving the condom from his pants pocket. Gold leaned against the pillows, fingers flexing nervously by his side.

Belle was not nervous. Holding the condom triumphantly, she sprang back onto the bed and moved to straddle his thighs. She was chewing her lower lip again, plucking the flesh between her teeth. She stroked his cock gently, running her thumb across the head with every pump. He clutched the bedsheets, hips thrusting into her touch, eyes squeezing shut.

“Please, Belle!”

“Please what, Rumford?”

“Please… you’re killing me, sweetheart.”

She opened the little wrapper and, with enchanting grace, rolled the sleeve of plastic over his cock. Looking quite pleased, she wriggled forward and settled herself atop him. He groaned, tempted to let his hips buck against her, cock snuggled in her slick folds. She ran her hands across his chest and hummed.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful.” When she circled a nipple he hissed, back arching off the bed. “You’re so sensitive, Rumford! I never would have guessed… beneath all those suits of yours.”

“Do you always play with your food before you eat it?” he growled, grinning up at her.

Belle laughed. “Perhaps we can level the playing field,” she said, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. She flung it to the ground and watched as a look of reverence spread across his face.

“Holy shit,” he croaked. He ran his hands from her thighs, up her sides, to cup her pert breasts. “You’re bloody perfect. I could have used a little warning! I mean my God,” he said, massaging her flesh. She fit perfectly in his hands, a fact as sexy as it was poetic and as practical as it was pleasing. Her nipples hardened against his palms. He cupped her from below, running his thumbs over the little peaks. She whined, rocking forward into his touch. “Now who’s sensitive?”

“Tease,” she purred.

He slid one hand back up behind her neck and entwined his fingers into her hair. He nudged her to lean forward, and Belle complied. Rumford sat up a bit to meet her, having to pull his other hand from her breast to hold himself up. His abs weren’t what they used to be. She didn’t seem to mind his infirmity, though, when he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

She cried out, rocking forward again. He sucked at it for a few moments before letting go. He circled it with his tongue, licked over the rosy bud, and gave it another suck.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Rumford is fine, dear,” he murmured, switching to her other breast. “Or Gold if we’re at work.” He pressed a kiss to the nipple before pulling it between his lips and sucking. When he trapped it gently between his teeth, Belle cried out again. Her eyes flew open and her hands gripped his shoulders.

“Rumford!” she rocked back, catching his gaze. “I’m done playing. I need you.”

“No complaints here,” he replied, breathless. He released her hair and dropped back, resting on his elbows. Belle pitched herself forward for a quick, desperate kiss before moving back into place. It was somewhat of an awkward thing, lining them up without actually penetrating yet. Belle wanted to savor that moment; she wanted to look him in the eyes when she took him.

Keeping one hand between them, ready to guide his cock where she wanted it most, she leaned forward until their noses touched and they breathed the same air.

“Ready?” she asked, blue eyes searching his.

“Ready.”

Belle guided the tip of his cock into her and lowered her hips, sinking onto him. They both gasped, blinking but not breaking eye contact. To each of them the sensation was overpowering; a feeling like ecstasy and tragedy and coming home after being too long away. After a moment Belle dipped her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss, her mouth insistent against his. He kissed her back with full passion.

She began to rock slowly, sitting up to find the best angle. They found a rhythm, Belle moving up and down, her hands planted on Rumford’s chest. His body was unaccustomed to this activity, and he contented himself with shallow thrusts while he relearned the motions; it also gave him time to study Belle. He ran his hands over her body and made mental notes of the places that earned a vocal response. Pinching a nipple earned him a throaty growl; scratching his nails over her hips resulted in a breathless, high-pitched cry.

It wasn’t long before his hips remembered how to move, how to meet her hips in a satisfying slap of flesh on flesh. She was so warm around him, so warm and solid and real, that he quickly became lost in the pleasure of it all and settled his hands on her thighs, head falling back against the bed.

Belle had never been very vocal, but this time she couldn’t help it. Each time she sank onto his thrusting cock, a moan ripped from her throat before she could stop it. He filled her so wonderfully; he pressed against her, a delicious pressure, and the feeling of him sliding against her walls made her ache for more. The ache drove her to move faster and faster. If she couldn’t have _more_ of him, a desire thwarted by physical limitations, then she’d settle for more quickly.

She was surprised to find, after a particularly keen thrust, that she was desperately close to orgasm. Usually it took her ages to reach that point, hours of work and intense clitoral stimulation. Sex with Rumford was so different, she thought with glee; he had brought her off with his fingers and his mouth already, and now was doing it with the sole power of his exquisite cock. She was never letting go of this man.

“I- I- Ooohh! Oh yes! Oh I’m close!”

Rumford opened his eyes, watching her breasts bounce in the air, pert pink nipples making his balls feel tight.

“Let go,” he said, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Let go, sweetheart.”

She cried out. “Ah, yes! Rum!” She repeated his name several times as orgasm shook her. Her thigh muscles were screaming in pain but she couldn’t stop, not yet. Her hands flexed against his abdomen, nails scratching. Gold’s hands moved up to grip her hips and steady her as she rode it out. His own hips demanded that he keep going, keep moving, even though a voice in his head told him that it would be more polite to let her down and finish himself off with his hand.

When she sagged against him, back moist with sweat, she was panting hard. Brushing hair from her face, she continued to move against him.

“What do you need, Rumford? What do you need to come for me?”

His throat tightened, but when she ground down on his cock he forgot why it was so bittersweet that she cared.

“I need… I need,” he growled, hips pounding into her. “I need… different!”

“Move me, Rumford. Take what you need. I won’t break, I promise.”

He genuinely didn’t know what it was that he was desperately seeking, but orgasm evaded him. His body took over. One arm wrapped around Belle’s back and he flipped them, keeping his cock buried in her soft folds. Yes, he liked this position better; he liked the way she looked up at him. Hair hanging around his face, breath ragged, he started to move again but kept his eyes locked on hers. She was searching for something in his amber irises, but he didn’t know what. With her pussy warm around him, and his hips freer to push hard into her, he couldn’t bring himself to think about it too deeply.

“That’s it, my sweet boy,” she whispered, one hand pushing his hair away from his face, the other cupping his jaw. He moaned and leaned into the touch, pressing a sloppy kiss to her palm. “Come for me, Rumford.” She slid one hand down over his shoulder, pressing against his back. He cried out, closing in on that elusive release.

“Oh Gods… Belle!”

“That’s it, come for me!”

With a strangled cry, he did as she bade. He stuttered and jerked against her, gasping as he filled the condom, mind lost to the bliss of coming inside his darling, his sweet Belle.

He collapsed against her, trying and failing to keep his weight up on his elbows. Belle didn’t mind. One hand stroked along his spine and the other stroked through his hair. She hummed, a contented sound, and squeezed his bony hips with her thighs.

“Sorry,” he croaked, rolling off her onto his back, “you must be sore.”

“A bit,” she said, closing her legs and wincing softly. She turned to face him.

Gold smiled and gently touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Belle.”

She blushed. “Not nearly so handsome as you. No, don’t you dare cringe at me!” Belle rolled to her stomach and cupped his face in one hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You are a beautiful man, Rumford, and you look gorgeous when you come undone. I’m lucky to be the one unmaking you.” She smiled, and kissed him, and the world felt warmer.

When she finally pulled her lips away, he slid an arm around her back to keep her close. “You called me Rum when you came.”

Belle blushed, and bit her lip. “Do you hate it?”

“I love it.”

“It’s awfully informal.”

“I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

“I’m glad, because I like saying it. Just when it’s us, of course.”

“Of course,” he said, tilting his head up for another kiss. For a few moments he lost himself in tender kisses, soft petal lips plucking his and he devouring her in return. Then she pulled away, wriggling playfully back across the bed to stand on the other side.

“Bathroom?”

“Next door.”

Belle headed out of the room, pausing in the doorway to look back over her shoulder. She caught him staring at her ass, of course, and smiled. “Try not to miss me.”

“Impossible.” He smirked as she flounced out of the bedroom.

When she returned, he had disposed of the condom and turned down the bed. Belle crawled in beside him. She purred at how snugly she fit by his side. Caressing his chest, Belle began to draw patterns on his skin.

“You’re not at all incompetent, in case you were still wondering. I’m not sure how your… encounters… usually go, but for me that was… it was…”

“I haven’t orgasmed liked that in years,” he said, laughing. She laughed with him.

“Neither have I. Is it tacky for me to ask if we can have a round two later?”

“Oh, you’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, turning to hold her against his chest. One hand firmly grasped a buttock.  He yawned, the pull of sleep beckoning him into the dark. “Can we have a nap first?”

Belle, spurred on by his yawn, let out a little one of her own. She looked like a kitten. He booped her nose. “Yes, I think some rest is in order. But don’t get too comfy, Buster, because I’m coming back for you,” she said, smiling into his chest even as her eyes closed and her body relaxed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter! I'm a perfectionist when it comes to writing smut.


	6. Shared Meals

The next morning, Gold woke to a loud ringing. The phone on the bedside table glowed, its shrill voice cutting through the air. Belle moaned, her grip on him tightening. They’d had a rather exhausting night to be woken so early, two more rounds of lovemaking following their initial explosion of passion and wonder.

He smirked. Belle was wound around him very tightly, her head on his chest, her arms around his middle, and her legs intertwined with his. She grumbled as he stretched out, picking up the phone.

“Hello? Oh. I see. Of course, I understand. Thanks, Ken.”

“Whozat?” Belle whispered, drool dripping from her lip as she began untangling herself. He sat up, stiff muscles complaining.

“The family that has Bae. He had nightmares and wants to come home early.”

“Oh, Gosh, of course,” she said, moving to climb off the bed.

“He’ll be here in about ten minutes. I’m so sorry, Belle,” he said, grabbing his boxers and pants from the floor and shoving his legs into them.

“No, no apologies necessary.” Slipping into her underwear, she fetched his cane from across the room and brought it to him. “This would be a confusing sight for him.”

They dressed in a hurry. Gold, limping a little more heavily than usual, walked her to the front door.

“I had a fantastic time, Belle. I can’t begin to tell you.”

“You don’t have to. It was amazing.”

Rumford reached up and stroked her cheek, drawing her in for a kiss. She melted against him, the urgency of the moment lost. When they parted, Belle inhaled the chilly morning air and remembered why she had to leave.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“I’m bringing a chicken alfredo for lunch. So if I don’t see you before that…”

“You will.” Belle reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. He held open the door and watched her walk back to her car. She waved as she turned out of his drive, and he waved back.

She really was an incredible woman. Moments later, the Robinsons’ minivan pulled up and Bae hopped out, arms wrapped around his stomach. He slumped up to the porch and Gold threw an arm around him, pulling him inside after waving thanks to the Robinsons.

“Nightmares again, huh?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Come on, let’s get some cocoa and talk.” His son beat him to the kitchen, grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge and sat at the counter, fidgeting on the stool. Gold set the kettle boiling and began to prepare the cups. “So, same old nightmares?”

“Yes. The one where she leaves.”

Gold sighed. Bae’s mom had left him as a child, when he was five years old. Even now, even at ten, he was still suffering. Sometimes in these nightmares he had to watch as she was eaten by alligators, or set on fire, but sometimes his subconscious chose something closer to the truth. In this nightmare Milah throws plates and clocks and vases against the walls as she tears through their home, knocking over everything in her path. She screams obscenities, spittle flying from her lips as she cusses at the man she no longer loves. Bae, waddling over broken shards of china, reaches up to her in these dreams. He reaches for her and, with barely a flash of regret, she slams the door in his little face.

Gold, pouring the hot water over the cocoa and marshmallows, grimaced at the actual memory. There was little spittle involved, but the shards and the screaming were real. She didn’t even say goodbye to her own son. Rumford had cleaned the pieces of glass and china from Bae’s feet, had wiped the tears from his swollen eyes. He’d begun the long, painful work of mending a child’s broken heart.

He passed a cup to his son and watched the boy pile on the whipped cream. “What can we do today to make you feel better?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged.

“I thought we might make chicken alfredo for dinner. We’d need to go to the store to do that… while we’re in town we might as well go to that Game Stop place. We could get you a new game for that bloody Xbox.”

Bae gave him a small smile. “That sounds nice. Are you going to take some chicken to Belle?”

Rumford felt his mouth go dry, just a little. “I might. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

“Baelfire. Why do you ask?”

“Why haven’t I met her yet?”

Gold just stared. “She’s a work friend. You don’t come to work with me.”

“Why don’t you invite her over here?”

“I… I dunno. I’m confused Bae. Why are you asking so many questions about Belle?”

Bae picked up his cocoa mug, standing up off the stool. “I’m ten, dad; I know what love looks like, and it looks like your face when you talk about her. ‘Belle said something funny today, Belle recommended a good book’… It’s pretty obvious you love her.” Gold just watched his son, helpless look in his eye. Bae sighed, and smiled. “I’m tired, Papa. I think I’m gonna go back to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too, son.” Rumford watched his son go up the stairs, speechless.

* * *

 

The next morning Belle primped more than usual and told herself it didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t her _boyfriend._ Paramour would be a better term. Lover. Fuck buddy.

And oh buddy, could he fuck.

Belle hadn’t felt so sated in years. She smiled at herself in the mirror as she put her hair up. Really, really sated.

Seeing him again at work was bittersweet. The surge of joy she felt in her heart was met by an immediate wave of guilt; she felt so much more for him than he did for her. She wanted him more completely than he was willing to give. She ached.

It was fortunate that no one else in the school arrived so early. The magnetic attraction between them as they stood in the workroom was strong, causing their hands to float from their sides, brushing mid-air before being nervously pulled back. She brushed a strand of hair from his face and he leaned into the touch. Belle jumped when the copier beeped to announce her finished job. She gathered her papers and turned to go, but couldn’t bring herself to leave right away. For a moment they stayed, staring, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, her chin tilting up as though to capture his lips… She bolted away before anything else could happen.

They didn’t talk about it, not really, until Wednesday. Belle’s foot brushed his leg at lunch and he groaned.

“We need to get more careful here at school.”

 “…Right.”

“I mean, if you keep touching me like that _I’m_ going to be the hardest part of my advanced chemistry course, and it’s already pretty hard.”

She laughed. “Well, perhaps if we spent less time together, the temptation would be less.”

“…Or perhaps not. Maybe we should… spend more time together. _Together,_ ” he added, as though his meaning had been unclear. Belle chewed her lower lip.

“You have Baelfire to think of.”

“He plays soccer after school on Wednesdays.”

“But I have yoga.”

He groaned again. “Of course you do yoga.”

“Don’t be snide!”

“Well, maybe he can spend some time with a friend a few days a week…”

“NO, No, no.” Belle put down her fork (quite reluctantly, his chicken alfredo was to die for) and took his hand. “I don’t want that. I don’t want you to start skipping your time with Bae for me. I could never forgive myself.” Her thumb stroked over his skin. “I want you, Rum, of course I do. But we’ll find our times. Weekends, and the like. I won’t come between you and your son.”

Belle smiled at him and he smiled back. His eyes seemed a bit watery, his grin a bit thin. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Thank you, Belle.”

They stayed like that for a several minutes, a casual touch and a shared sentiment, before the ticking of the clock reminded them to finish their meal.

“Bae, he, uh, he asked about you.”

“Oh? Oh no, he didn’t suspect-”

“No, no, nothing like that. He wanted to know if I was going to bring you lunch. He, uh, he asked why I haven’t invited you over yet.”

“Oh.”

“Is that… would that be something you’d like?”

Belle flushed. “I thought we said no dates.”

“It’s not a date! Not really. Not when Bae is involved. But you don’t have to-”

“No! I want to.” Belle spat out the words before they choked her. Her heart wanted to meet Bae more than anything, she’d heard so much about him and she wanted to see him for herself. But her mind… she knew it was a bad idea. Friends with Benefits weren’t supposed to invite baggage into the relationship.

Fuck it.

“If you’re alright with it, I’d love to meet Bae.”

“Yeah… yeah. Besides, I’m a useless father. I can’t deny him anything. And what he wants, apparently, is to meet my only friend.”

“If I’m your only friend, does that make me the best?”

Gold smirked.

“I only ask because, well, you’re my best friend,” Belle said.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

“You have tons of friends! Ruby Lucas, Ariel Fisher, Mary Margaret Nolan-Swan-”

“Stop listing my friends. I adore all of them, it’s true, but they’re not you. None of them know me like you do.”

Gold grabbed her hand again. “Yes, you’re my best friend, Belle.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He laughed, so deep and throaty it was almost a growl. The bell rang and he grabbed the Tupperware from in front of her, drawing it back across his desk. Belle whined and snapped up one last bite with her fork, smirking as she stood and straightened her clothes. She gave him a peck on the cheek.

“What are you doing Friday after school?”

“Hopefully burying my face between your-”

The door opened and students poured in.

“Between your librarian duties and your yoga class, I don’t know how you have time to relax, Ms. French.”

“I don’t relax, Mr. Gold. I caffeinate. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

They shared a sly grin as she left, heading back to her haven of books and work and solitude.


	7. Tea Sets and Tequila

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Mr. Gold linked arms with the librarian, pleased to see her smile as she turned on her heels, coat draped over her other arm. It was Friday, finally, and Belle had invited him over to her place for ‘dinner’. He wasn’t entirely sure she knew how to cook, having never seen her eat except when he brought her a meal, but he planned to have a nice time regardless of the food quality.

They had waited around for an extra half hour after school, and had agreed to drive separately. It would not be too suspicious if someone saw them together, but there was no need to draw extra scrutiny. They even had a cover story planned.

“There you are!” Ruby yelled, jogging down the hall in her heels. “Come on Belle, we’re going to Los Tazos to celebrate the Greys’ engagement.”

“Oh, no thanks, Ruby,” Belle said, holding more tightly to his arm. “I’m showing Mr. Gold the antique tea set I inherited from my aunt. I could use a little extra cash.”

Ruby eyed the two of them. “Right. Well you could do that any time, couldn’t you? We’re only celebrating this once. The whole faculty is going. Besides, it would mean so much to Gaston for you to come. And if you don’t…”

Belle sighed. “People will think I’m jealous and petty.” She groaned and turned to Gold. “Perhaps I can show you my tea set tomorrow?”

He deliberated, chewing the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “Nonsense. If the whole faculty is going, I suppose I ought to go too.”

Belle and Ruby spoke in unison. “What?”

“Mr. Gold,” Belle said, and it sounded as though she had almost called him Rum but caught herself at the last moment, “that’s totally unnecessary.”

“Yeah Gold, I thought you hated everyone.”

“Could I have a moment to talk to Belle, Miss Lucas?”

“Um…”

“It’s fine, Ruby. I’ll meet you outside.”

“Okay. Whatever. Not like this is weird or anything,” the tall brunette muttered as she stalked down the hall and out the doors.

“Rumford, you don’t have to come with me.”

“Do you want me to?” he asked, pressing his hand atop hers on his arm.

“I know how much you value your solitude-”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to come with you?”

Belle fidgeted, biting her lower lip. “I can’t ask you to.”

“It’s done. I’m not letting you walk into the lion’s den alone.”

“Thank you, Rum.”

“What are friends for?”

An hour later they were seated at an absurdly long table in the back room of Los Tazos Mexican Restaurant. Gold had been strapped into a sombrero by an absurdly enthusiastic waiter, and Belle had already downed two tequila shots. Ruby had been less than pleased when Belle had insisted on riding with the vicious Mr. Gold, but the librarian had no intention of being sober enough to drive. Besides, she lived just a block away from the restaurant.

Belle squeezed Rumford’s hand beneath the table. He squeezed back.

As they waited for food, people kept going in and out of the room, buzzing like flies. As they did, they often stopped and leaned over Belle’s shoulder.

“Someday we’ll throw one of these for you!”

“Don’t take it too hard, huh Belle?”

“Your day will come. I’m sure of it!”

Each of them patted her on the shoulder and gave her a sympathetic, syrupy smile that made her want to vomit. When Gaston got up to give a speech, Belle used their distraction to lean against Rumford. She wished that she could curl up in his lap, other people’s opinions be damned, but they both had a professional face to maintain. She gulped down the last of her mojito during the toast, standing suddenly and unsteadily.

“Can I get you something, Ms. French?” Gold asked, his hands clenching into fists with restraint.

“No, I’m just going to ask for a glass of water. Be right back,” she said. She headed straight for the bar.

After a moment’s hesitation, Gold discreetly folded his napkin, took off the absurd sombrero, and stood. Luckily for him, most of the other faculty were distracted eating or talking with their mouths full. He caught Ruby Lucas’ eyes, worried for Belle, and gave her a quick nod. She returned the gesture and made no move to get up.

In the bar, he sidled up beside her as she downed her third tequila shot.

“Careful there, darling. Keep your wits about you.”

“I don’t want my wits. I want to be so drunk that I forget all my feelings. I want to be home and not here. I want…” She looked up at him finally, nibbling her lower lip. “I want to go home.”

“You’ve got to stick it out a little longer, love. Ten more minutes, then I’ll take you home.”

“No,” she said, and his heart fell. “No, we can’t leave together. I’ll do ten, then you’ve gotta do five more. My place is down the block above the library. Meet me there.”

“Okay. You head back to the table and I’ll pay for both of us.”

“Rumford, if you pay-”

“It’s not a date, don’t nitpick, just go,” he said, tapping her on the butt. She grumbled and did as he bade.

When Gold returned to the private room, Ruby had taken his place. She had her arm thrown around Belle in a protective way. He took the seat she had vacated between the shy school counselor Archie Hopper and the awkward Dr. Whale. Neither of them seemed pleased by Miss Lucas’ replacement; Gold wasn’t too happy about it either. They sat in unreasonable tense silence for an entire five minutes, until Whale found a reason to vacate his seat and Hopper followed.

He watched as Belle began quietly gathering her things. He could hear her and Ruby arguing and tried to listen in.

“…been drinking. Let me drive you.”

“It’s not even two blocks. I’ll be fine.”

“…master plan… alone, are you?”

“Don’t be…… big girl. I know what I’m doing.” Belle stood up and waved goodbye. Her friends protested, it was too early, she couldn’t leave yet! She batted away their arguments with surprising prowess and grace. She wished everyone a happy weekend and exited as quickly as her heels could carry her.

Curiosity ever brewing inside him, he waited a few moments, then moved around the table and took the spot that Belle had occupied; he gave Ruby his best scrutinizing look. She returned it with added animosity.

“You and Belle are keeping secrets. Why don’t I buy that story about the tea set?”

“You’re naturally suspicious, perhaps?”

“If she owes you money and you’re taking it out _in trade_ ,” the girl growled, threat hanging in the air.

Gold snarled, disgusted. “I would never act so despicably. If Belle has elected not to tell you something, perhaps you should trust her judgement.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to trust you.”

 “I’m not asking you to.” He grabbed his cane and stood up. “Have a nice weekend, Miss Lucas.”

He didn’t speak to anyone else on his way out. They didn’t speak to him, either. The cool air was a nice change of pace and he decided to walk, rather than drive his car down the street to park in front of the abandoned library.

There was a blue door off to the side of the building, with a little button next to it. He pressed and was rewarded with a loud buzz, then a clang as Belle presumably unlocked it from her end. He stepped through and climbed a narrow staircase, pausing again at another blue door. This time he knocked.

Belle yanked it open and, grabbing his tie, pulled him through. Once he was clear she slammed the door shut and pressed him back against it. Her hands tugged at him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down until her lips could press against his.

“Mfff… Belle… Belle!”

“What?” she asked between desperate kisses, guiding his hands around her body.

“You seem to be in quite the rush, darling.”

“I want you.”

“You’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I wanted you before I started drinking. Remember? Tea set?”

“But still…”

“Oh shut up,” she growled, turning in his arms to press her back against him. She moved like a cat, rubbing against him, arching into his touch. She guided his hands, one up her stomach and another between her thighs. His fingers stroked over the soft material of her tights until he reached the apex of her thighs; she whined, pushing his hand against her clothed mons.

“Belle,” he gasped, his fingers flexing against her.

“Yes, Rum?” She tipped her head to the side, inviting his lips to caress the skin of her neck. He couldn’t refuse.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Come on!” she said, grinning. She took his hands in hers, intertwining their fingers, dragging him behind her as she scurried across the living room. “Mind the step,” she said as she turned, leading him backwards into her most private space.

He marveled at it. The walls were sky blue, twilight giving the room a golden glow. Her bedspread was white and perfect, and he groaned at the thought of spreading her atop it and feasting like a king. “I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“That your room would be as beautiful as you.” He drew her to his chest, fingertips tracing her jaw as he tilted her head up for a kiss. He captured her bottom lip and nipped it gently. Belle whined.

“Do you always play with your food?” she asked, mimicking something he’d said the last time they were together.

He walked her backwards until she nudged the bed, dropping his cane on the way. His hands slid down over her backside and gave it a squeeze. Belle whined again and began to strip, tearing off her blouse and unzipping her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Rumford wrapped his arms around her back, long fingers splaying across her creamy skin. Her hands kept working, pulling at his jacket, unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt, yanking it free of his pants.

She growled when she couldn’t remove his pesky layers, his arms still around her. “Rum… Rum… Rumford!”

“What?”

“Shirt off. Now.”

“Oh, right.” He stepped back to peel off his upper layers and Belle quickly yanked down her tights. She wore matching black lace lingerie; as much a treat for herself as it was for him. He was still working off his shirt when Belle grew impatient, stepping forward to touch the front of his pants. She stroked along his length with one hand while the other unbuttoned and unzipped.

He dropped his clothes to the ground and grabbed her gently by the wrists. “You’ll have me off before the race has even started.”

“It’s not a race. Not even a competition.”

“No, it isn’t. Do me a favor, love, and get on the bed so I can ravish you properly… I should also take off my pants.”

“Why should I let you have all the fun?”

“If you aren’t having fun, I’m not doing my job right.” Gold kicked off his shoes, shoving down his boxers and slacks.

Belle climbed onto the bed, sitting on her heels. Gold followed her, hands seeking out her waist as soon as he had his balance. Belle caressed his shoulders, fingers dancing over his slender muscles, moving down to lightly touch his chest, his stomach.

“Be a good boy and kiss my neck, Rum.”

“As my lady wishes.” He dropped his head, hair falling into his eyes, and brushed his lips across the skin of her neck. She pulled her hair away to give him better access. Chaste kisses gave way to open-mouthed ones; he scraped his teeth across her sensitive areas and then laved them with his tongue. He settled in at her clavicle and sucked the skin until it turned a lovely shade of red, then kept at it. He was going to make sure that she had a mark to remember him by, even if it wasn’t in a place he could see at work.

Belle ran her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp. “Good…that feels so good…”

“Do I get a reward?”

“I think so,” she purred, pulling his head up for a kiss. Her clever fingers left his locks for a moment, reaching around to undo her bra and discard it, hands returning immediately to delve in at his temples.

Gold sighed, kneading her breasts. He massaged them, fingers tweaking her nipples from time to time. He lowered his head as well to rub his face against the soft skin, letting his lips wrap around one of the rosy buds while his nimble digits played with the other. Belle purred at his ministrations. She rocked up off her heels, back arching into his touch.

“That’s my good boy… I need you, Rum.”

“What do you need, Belle?”

To answer his question, she pushed herself up onto her knees and guided his hands to the lace around her hips.  He helped her out of the underwear, drew her to his chest, and pulled both of them backwards on the bed. She giggled, drawing her legs up to straddle him. He ran his hands up and down her spine, and Belle moaned.

“There are condoms in the drawer of my nightstand. Can you reach?”

“I’ll try,” he groaned, reaching up to fiddle awkwardly with the drawer. Belle didn’t make it easy for him. She returned the favor he’d left on her clavicle, lips and tongue and teeth suckling at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Her hips rocked against his, erect cock pressing against her folds. “Fuck! Oh, I think I got one.”

Belle heard him ripping the foil. She rolled to the side while he put it on. She moved to get atop him again but he wouldn’t have it, snarling playfully as he climbed atop her and settled between her thighs. Belle laughed as he pressed his body against her, claiming her lips with his own.

“Ready?” he asked breathlessly.

She nodded. “Ready!”

With a single hand he lined them up, hips driving his cock into her. She was warm and welcoming, as he’d come to expect her to be, and she wrapped her legs around him almost immediately. Her hands on his back urged him on as he thrust in and out, wasting little time on gentleness.

Judging by Belle’s loud cries, she didn’t mind. Her nails scratched him but he didn’t care. Breathing heavily, his lips dragged across the skin of her neck as he rocked against her, thrusting hard. He felt like an animal, buried in his senses; the overwhelming joy of her around his cock, the soft skin of her shoulder beneath his mouth, the heady smell of her sweat and her pleasure and her hair and _her_. He rut against her and again heard the small voice of his subconscious hoping that Belle didn’t mind.

She couldn’t have cared if she’d tried. Belle was in a similar state, reduced to trembling and panting and begging for more. Her thighs burned, and she could feel herself leaving marks on Rumford’s back. She was just so desperate for more, more of him! She rocked her hips with each of his thrusts, mewling in his ear.

Getting frantic, Gold threw his weight onto one arm so that he could reach between them with the other, pressing a knuckle against her clit and rubbing. It had the desired effect; Belle cried out, overwhelmed by sensation. Within a minute she was coming apart, body quaking, muscles clenching, screaming his name.

“Rum! Oh yes, Gods! RUM!”

He bit her neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. With a few long, deep thrusts, he could feel himself getting close, but couldn’t find the way out. He sped up again, rocking against her, but there was still no relief. He growled in frustration.

Belle, as she returned to her senses from a place of ecstasy, heard his growl and, having recently been very frustrated herself, recognized it for what it was. She let her aching legs slide from around him, pulling her hands down to cup his face.

“Rum, look at me. Look at me, sweetheart. What do you need?”

“I don’t… I…”

“Just look at me, love,” she whispered, rolling her hips. “You feel so wonderful inside me. Take your time, take what you need.”

He nodded, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he began to thrust again, slowly. Shallow thrusts that kept them close together. Belle, even sated, still felt the need to rock against him, gasping each time he sheathed himself completely. She bit her lip and watched him, drawing pleasure from the way he was coming undone. Shaggy hair framing his face, lips parted and swollen, face flushed. His irises were huge as he watched her watching him, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh Fuck,” he cursed, dropping his head to her neck again. He managed to raise it, capturing her lips with his as he came; his hips stuttered against hers, body shaking as he poured himself into the condom.

He collapsed atop her, still quaking. Belle stroked him through it, her hands in his hair and on his back.

He rolled off of her as soon as he could, but she followed him, nestling in against his side.

After a few minutes of breathing and shared silence, he spoke.

“What were you looking at?”

“Hmm?”

“You were staring at me. Was I that frightening?”

Belle laughed. “Not at all! You’re divine when you come apart. Simply breathtaking.”

“Shut it.”

“I’m serious!” She swatted his chest, chuckling softly. “I would eat you up in heartbeat.”

“Cannibalism is not a joke, Miss French.”

“Don’t you dare call me that in my bed.”

“I believe we’re _on_ the bed, Dearie.”

She rolled atop him suddenly, grabbing his wrists and pushing them above his head, leaning down to kiss him. She nibbled at his lips, and even nipped his tongue when he slid it into her mouth.

“Owch!”

“You’re mine, Rumford. When we’re together, you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he echoed.

She released his wrists, bending to kiss him again. He reached down and slipped off the condom, chucking it in the conveniently located trash bin next to the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to his chest. They continued to kiss for some time, until Gold felt himself beginning to sleep.

“I’m yours,” he whispered again against her soft pink lips, pleased at the way their bodies fit together so comfortably.

She hummed in response, wriggling against him, nuzzling his chest. Tequila-laden and well sated, she dropped off to sleep.


	8. The Gossip Mill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold makes a mistake.

In the morning Belle woke to Gold’s stubbled face nuzzling her neck. She carded her hands through his hair and allowed herself the moment, pushing away the nagging reminder that this was _not_ a relationship; in a few minutes they’d get up and _not_ have breakfast (per their agreement), and he’d be on his way. Until then, she’d breathe in the smell of him and feel the softness of his hair on her fingers.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her and pressed a kiss to the skin beneath her ear.

“Morning,” he murmured, brogue thick. He smiled; Belle could feel it against her skin.

“Morning. What time is it?”

“Don’t care. Not getting up.”

“Well, I need to pee, so you might have to release me.”

“Do I really?”

“…I could wait a few minutes.”

“That’s a good girl.”

She shifted, groaning softly. “Oh, Scotland! Say it again.”

“What? Like… Yerr a bonnie lass, Belle!... That do it for you?”

Belle shook with laughter. “Yeah, that does it for me.” She snuggled closer to him and breathed him in until the call of nature became overwhelming. “I have to pee.”

Gold grumbled as he unwound his arms, rolling off of her.

Belle climbed to her feet and sauntered to the en suite bath. When she opened the door to return to bed, he was leaning on the doorframe.

“My turn.”

She couldn’t help stroking his sides as they changed places, feeling the lines of his muscles and hips with the lingering palms of her hands.

“I’ll put on the coffee. Mind the step on your way to the kitchen.”

Belle kissed his chest before exiting the bedroom into her spacious one-room apartment. The kitchen was to the right, separated from the living room by an island counter. Large windows let sunlight drift into the room, lighting up the yellow wood of the cabinets and the maroon of her sofa. The hum of her coffee maker kept her company until Rum joined her, silky pink bathrobe wrapped around his lean body.

She couldn’t help the laughter that burst from her chest. “Wow, that doesn’t look half bad on you.”

“I thought it best to cover up. For all I know you have roommates or peeping neighbors. This was hanging in the bathroom.”

“A gift from a distant aunt. I’ve thought about throwing it out for years, but I can’t now that I know how pretty you look.” She hooked a finger in the tied drawstring and pulled until he was pressed close against her and she could kiss those soft Scottish lips.

They kissed until the machine beeped, the aroma of coffee in the air.

Belle grinned and poured their mugs. They clinked in a silent toast before drinking.

“Ugh. Light roast?”

“I suppose you’re a ‘black-as-Satan’s-soul’ type?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“This is the only way I can drink it without milk.”

“I never knew you were such a softy, French.”

She smacked him in the arm. “Call me Belle or I’m going to squeeze your balls until you pop.”

Gold chortled, spitting out coffee. “The mouth on you!” 

“Mhmm. I can do a lot more with it, too.” Belle winked, set her coffee cup down, and started walking back towards the bedroom. She paused in the doorway, looking over her shoulder with a look that was almost a pout. “I’m taking a shower. Feel free to join me; we can talk more about my mouth.”

Gold stared, slack-jawed. He gulped down his coffee and hobbled after her.

One hour later they emerged from the steamy shower and dressed in companionable silence. Belle had enjoyed sucking him off almost as much as she’d enjoyed the sight of him down on one knee, her leg thrown over his shoulder and his mouth busy working her folds. She’d never had so much fun in the shower.

Gold, still foxy in his wrinkled suit, gulped the last of the cold coffee and kissed her on the cheek before leaving. Her heart throbbed.

It continued to ache until Monday morning when, Starbucks in hand, she knocked on his classroom door.

“Morning, Belle. Thank you.” He took the proffered cup and sipped, eyes returning to his computer screen.

“Busy?”

“A bit. I have a parent coming in to discuss a student’s behavior and academic progress. Nasty fellow.”

“The parent or the student?”

“Both. It doesn’t help that I own his property.”

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t. When are they expected?”

As if answering her, there was another knock and Principal Mills barged in, a scowling parent in tow.

“Mr. Gold, Mr. Fuller here would like to know why you are failing his son.”

“I am not failing his son. His son is failing my class.” Gold spoke crisply, all armor. He was getting ready for battle. Belle stepped back slightly, hoping to disappear against the wall.

“Johnny is working his ass off for you. I have to wonder if you’re just being a malicious son of a bitch because we were late on our rent.”

“Mr. Fuller has asked me to get involved,” Principal Mills interjected, arms crossed, “to ensure that you are being fair and professional.”

“Mr. Fuller,” Gold said, standing and drawing himself up to his full height. Although he was shorter than the other man, his presence was larger. “If your son tells you he is working his ass off, he is lying. He spends most of his time in my class sleeping or hitting on female students. He wastes my time regularly and has not taken any of my extra credit or credit recovery opportunities, despite my repeated invitation to do so. I will not waste my time on a petulant child who would rather turn to his daddy for help than actually pull his weight.”

“You piece of-”

“Mr. Fuller,” Belle said, stepping forward. “I’m Belle French, the librarian. If I may, we have a study hall in the library every Monday and by encouraging Johnny to attend, perhaps we can raise his grade. I’m sure Mr. Gold could provide make up work.”

“I don’t recall inviting you to speak for me, Miss French.” Belle couldn’t help jumping slightly as Gold turned on her, voice dripping with malice. She looked at him and saw only his shield. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to butt out of my business. As a matter of fact I will not provide make up work to a student whose current grade is a 10%. Now, Mr. Fuller, if you have anything else to say to me that isn’t an expletive, please do so.”

Ignoring the last part, Mr. Fuller unleashed a string of curses at the science teacher. Belle, gathering what was left of her dignity, left the room under the dark-eyed scrutiny of the principal.

It was those same dark eyes that found her in the library as the first period bell rang, absorbed in reshelving. She still wasn’t sure how she felt, anger and sadness and shame all competing in her churning gut, but she was pretty sure that a visit from Regina could not offer her any comfort.

“Tell me Miss French, do you make a habit of poking the dragon?”

“Mr. Gold and I are colleagues. We’re friendly.”

She laughed. “Gold doesn’t have friends. So I have to wonder why it is you were in his room so early this morning…”

Belle turned, scowling at her boss. “I resent the implication. And for your information, Mr. Gold and I _are_ friends. It’s not a secret.”

“The way he yelled at you this morning? You can’t be very close.”

“Did you come here for business or gossip, Principal Mills?”

“Just checking on you, dear. I know how cruel he can be.” Turning on her burgundy Jimmy Choos, Regina sauntered to the door. “I know better than most.” She left.

Her last words were an unnecessary addition to Belle’s conflicted feelings. She didn’t take them the way they’d been intended; a romantic relationship between the two most vicious people in the district would be common knowledge, even to a newcomer like Belle. No… that was just Regina stirring up drama. But there might be a long-buried history between them that had eluded the gossip mills… It did pique her curiosity.

Belle sat at her desk and allowed herself to be lost in thought. She needed to process.

She was hurt, because he’d spoken down to her in front of other people. A superior, no less, no matter that Regina was hardly superior to either of them. She hadn’t felt the sting of his bite in years; her privilege as his only friend had made her immune. A light jibe here or there wasn’t out of place, particularly if they were surrounded by colleagues. Despite the occasional bruised feelings, she understood his need to preserve his reputation. The mask was all Rumford had to protect himself. As someone who’d spent years hiding behind books, she wouldn’t begrudge him that.

And yet…

His behavior this morning had been atrocious. He’d lashed out and belittled her in front of a parent. He’d been forced, in that moment, to choose between her and his reputation, and he’d chosen the latter.

A forgivable offense, certainly… but not immediately so.

A small smile came to her face. No… she’d make him suffer before granting him benediction. And oh, he’d be begging for mercy before she was done with him.  


	9. New Things

The minute his classroom door closed on the despicable Mr. Fuller and the always charming Regina Mills, Gold let out a shaky sigh. He’d fucked up.

Ever the coward, he’d let the Monster loose on his precious Belle. The Monster was always inside him, always ready to defend or attack as need be; always ready with a sharp tongue and sharper teeth.

But that side of him was not for Belle. No, she’d wormed past his defenses in those early days and had earned a place in his heart. He should never have yelled at her.

It was the way Regina’s eyes bored into him, he decided, that had made him do it. She was always scrutinizing him for any fault, any crack, any deficiency. He couldn’t let those prying eyes see just how special Belle was. If she knew, she’d destroy it.

A voice, Belle’s voice, chided him. _This isn’t Regina’s fault,_ it said, _it’s yours_. He sighed again, burying his face in his hands. She was right. He had chosen to throw her under the bus in a fit of righteous anger. God… he had to apologize.

The first period bell rang and he cursed under his breath. He hadn’t gotten in his usual time to make copies and was only half prepared for the day. Add to that the residual anger and self-loathing that filled his gut… He grabbed a whiteboard and started writing. When the bell rang again signaling the beginning of the period, he carried the board to the front of the class and propped it up.

“Pop quiz!”

* * *

 

Belle didn’t come to his room at lunch. It was his policy to never leave his room during lunch; the children roamed the halls like horny lions. He would have none of it. So instead of seeking out the only person (other than his son) to pierce his heart in his entire adult life, so that he could grovel at her feet and beg forgiveness, he sat at his desk and forlornly ate the chicken tikka masala that he and Bae had prepared the night before.

His prep was in sixth period. He used the back entrance of the library. He told himself it was to make sure that Belle wasn’t busy- he didn’t want to interrupt her- but after watching her from the stacks for a whole two minutes he realized that excuse was crumbling.

Finally he walked up to her desk and politely coughed to get her attention.

She didn’t even look up. “How can I help you, Mr. Gold?”

“I came to apologize.”

She didn’t say anything, she just kept working.

“…Belle?”

“It’s Ms. French, actually. And simply stating that you came to apologize is not, in fact, an apology.”

“Alright,” he said, shifting and clutching his cane. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Ms. French.”

“Snapping? Snapping?!” She stood abruptly and turned on him. “You humiliated me. You belittled me in front of both Regina and a parent! I am a professional, Mr. Gold, and I am your colleague. I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds, but the way you treated me was deplorable. Now, if you please, I am busy and would like to be alone.”

He dropped his voice, briefly scanning the room to ensure that no one would witness the honesty about to pour from his mouth. “Miss French, I am deeply and truly sorry for the way I treated you this morning. I recognize that you were trying to help, as misguided as that might have been. I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me. When you do, I will be ready.” A little exhausted from being so tender-hearted, Gold cleared his throat and turned to go. Some little romantic part of him hoped that she’d tell him to stop, but he made it to the hallway and had to abandon that glimmer of hope.

His students were treated to an unusually grumpy teacher for the next few days as Rumford remained in the doghouse. Every day he brought two lunches on the off chance she would join him, but she never did. On Wednesday, as he started dozing off in third period, he realized he hadn’t had coffee in two days because she hadn’t brought him any. On Thursday he caught a glimpse of her in the hallway and tried to corner her, tried to confront her so that he could apologize again, but only one of them had a cane and unfortunately it was him.

So on Friday he did the unthinkable. The lunch bell rang, he took the two containers of chicken salad, and he went to the library. The halls were full of unsupervised, whooping teenagers, and he scowled at every one of them. He practically crashed into the library, slamming the door behind him. Belle jumped a little.

“What are you doing here? You never leave your room at lunch.”

“I know. But you weren’t coming to see me and I got tired of waiting.”

“Presumptuous of you. Impatient as well.”

He dropped the Tupperware onto her desk and hooked a chair with his ankle, dragging it over to sit across from her. “Yes, it was. You don’t have to eat the salad, but I intend to sit here and eat mine with a somber, penitent attitude.”

Belle eyed the salad hungrily. She pulled a fork from her desk drawer and popped open one of the containers. “To tell you the truth… I haven’t eaten lunch all week. I just don’t think about it in the morning.”

“I haven’t had coffee since Monday. The headaches are killing me.”

They took a few bites in awkward silence.

“I missed you, Rumford.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Not yet,” she said with a wicked smile. “But I also want to know that you’re not mad at me for butting into your business, as you put it.”

“No, I’m not mad. You were doing the job I can’t- pacifying parents. It’s a miracle I still have a job, frankly.”

“I’ve been saying that behind your back for years.”

“Liar,” Gold smirked, grabbing another bite of salad.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask.”

“What’s your history with Regina?”

“Regina? Why, what did she say to you?”

“I asked first.”

“I was… well I suppose the term is ‘frenemies’… with her mother. Regina was my apprentice for a while, I taught her business skills and some of the law. I can’t take all the credit for her manipulative lifestyle, but I suppose some of it is due to me.”

“She was trying to shock me, I think. She implied that she knew you better than most people, and I suppose that may be true.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Belle nodded.

He put his hand atop hers on the desk. “She doesn’t know me half as well as you do.”

“Yeah?” Belle bit her lower lip, trying to hold back her smile.

“Yeah. Now finish your salad, you’re looking thin.”

“I am not!”

“You are. You look peaky. If it weren’t for me, you’d look like a street urchin.”

“I would not!”

“Shut up and eat.”

They ate until the bell rang. Gold stood to leave and Belle matched the action, placing one hand on his arm. “You know how I said I wasn’t quite ready to forgive you?”

“Yes?”

“I want you to come over tonight. Could you?”

“Yes, Bae has a sleepover. I could be over around 8.”

The door opened and students poured in. “I’ll see you then.”

Gold smiled at her, collected his containers, and headed back to his classroom. The further away from her he got, the more he began to wonder what she meant. Was he supposed to fuck his way to forgiveness? Or was there punishment still to be meted out?

The thought made his cock twitch. Had had wanted to earn her good graces, after all… what was he willing to do to win them back?

His mind drifted back to these ideas all afternoon. He’d never been a submissive man, and the idea of Belle demanding something from him, ordering him to do something demeaning in order to be forgiven… It was a little alluring and a little off-putting. As he drove home that afternoon, he realized that his resistance stemmed from the knowledge that Belle would never ask him to do something demeaning. She would not ask him to cross lines he didn’t want to cross. He was absolutely certain.

Maybe it was that certainty that made the idea alluring.

He dressed in one of his best suits after dinner.

“Come on Bae! The Johnsons are expecting you.”

His son came bounding down the stairs, bag in tow. “Wow Papa, you look nice. Do you have a date?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why are you dressed up?”

“It’s just a suit. I wear them every day.”

“That’s your linen and silk Armani. The last time you wore that was at a funeral. So, is it Belle? I hope it’s Belle.”

“Bae! I do not have a date!”

His son sighed, then shrugged. “Fine. Lie. Don’t blame me when I pick up the habit. Come on, let’s go to the Johnson’s.”

Gold watched his son walk to the Cadillac, stunned. He was too smart for his own good.

He dropped Bae off and soon found himself at a familiar blue door. Belle buzzed him in. When he reached the top of the stairs, he knocked.

“Rum?”

“Belle.”

“Before I open the door, I want you to know that it’s okay to say no. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“I’m serious. You can say no. What can you say?”

He sighed. “I can say no. Please Belle, what is this?”

She opened the door and he felt his chest tighten. Belle – his sweet, loving little librarian – was clad from head to toe in leather. More accurately, she was dressed from toe to thigh in a pair of shiny black leather boots and she was covered from abdomen to breasts in a leather bustier. Her black panties did not seem to be made of any animal product.

She looked…. amazing.

“I… are you…”

“Not all the time,” she said, answering a question he couldn’t ask. “I just dabble. And like I said, this is your choice. You can say no.”

“I don’t want to say no. But I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this before. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“I’m here to guide you.” She stepped forward and stroked his cheek. “This is a part of who I am, and I’d like to share it with you.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be punishment?”

Belle grinned. “There’s a small punishment component, yes. Do you trust me?”

It was Gold’s turn to smile. “Implicitly.”

“Then let’s get started.” 


	10. Control

Belle took Rumford’s hands, thumbs stroking over his skin. “So, what would you like your safe word to be?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

She smiled gently. “Let’s go with something you wouldn’t normally say during sex. Who’s your favorite author?”

“Dickens.”

“Dickens it is. Now, I’ll call you by your name,” she said, brushing the hair away from his face, “but I’d like you to call me Mistress. Is that alright?”

“Yes.”

It was like watching the air around her change. Suddenly she was taller, more imposing. Her eyes were harder and she withdrew her hand from his face. “Yes what?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

In a moment she was back, at least partially. Her smile was radiant. “That’s my good boy.” She took his hand and he followed her. She released him as she approached the bed, grabbing a pillow and dropping it onto the floor. Sitting on the white bedspread, her fingers skimmed across a red thing he hadn’t noticed before. A long, thin handle culminating in a heart and seemingly made from leather. He was noticing a trend.

Belle picked up the riding crop and held it in her lap. “It’s not painful, I promise. I have to keep you honest somehow.” She leaned back on her elbows and opened her legs. She gestured to the pillow with the red heart. “These shoes, although beautiful, are getting tiring. I’d like you to remove them for me.”

Rumford hesitated. He looked down at her, at the way she wiggled her hips and gazed up at him with her startlingly blue eyes and her teeth chewing on her lower lip. He reflected on her kindness and her friendship, and he felt the tug to please her in his chest. Trust, he remembered; it was all about trust.

He knelt slowly and carefully, his bad leg grateful for the pillow. He set to work on her left boot, delicately unwinding the laces from top to bottom. He peeled open the boot and helped her ease her foot free. Stroking the pale skin of her leg, Rumford placed a row of kisses from her ankle up to the space just above her knee. As his hands stroked higher, he felt the sting of the riding crop across his knuckles.

“Ah ah ah, not yet, my love. Boot first.”

He turned and repeated the unwinding until her other leg was bare, too. He repeated the open-mouthed kisses until once again she stopped him with a light smack of the crop.

“Thank you, Rum. Now I’d like you to stand,” she said, getting to her feet and offering him a hand. He took it with his left, cane in his right, and stood, careful to avoid the pillow. “I would hate for anything to happen to that beautiful suit. I’m going to ask you to strip,” she said, moving to open up her closet. She pulled out a full length mirror and leaned it against the wall. “I’m going to watch, and so are you. Come stand here, please.”

He followed her instruction. She fetched a chair from the closet as well, setting it beside the mirror.

“You may hang or fold your clothes however you like.” She stood just behind him, the air filled with palpable tension.

He cleared his throat and eyed himself in the glass. There weren’t any of these full-length contraptions in his house; some things weren’t meant to be seen. His body happened to be one of them.

There was a smack as she brought the riding crop down on her own thigh.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

He slipped off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. Next came the tie and the cufflinks. With nothing in the way, he unbuttoned his dress shirt. He cleared his throat again, feeling uncomfortable at the thought of seeing Belle’s revulsion. Sure she’d seen him before, but in the heat of passion! In the dark! He was just imagining how she would scowl, disappointed, and change her mind about the whole affair, when he felt her hand on his back.

“You have a safe word. You can use it.”

Locking eyes in the mirror, he saw nothing but kindness and concern in her eyes. When would he learn to stop imagining the worst let her speak for herself?

“Thank you, Mistress, but I’m alright.”

From that point on it was almost easy, stripping away his defenses layer by layer. With slow determination he removed the last two articles: his white cotton undershirt and his silk-lined boxers.

“Oooh, look at you. What a divine creature,” she purred, stepping beside him and sliding both of her hands around his middle. She brought one up to his chest, fingers trailing over his skin, making him shiver. The other plunged lower to run through the trail of hair across his abdomen. She pressed a kiss to his bicep before turning back to look at him in the mirror. “Do you see what I see, Rum? Answer honestly.”

“No, Mistress.”

“What do you see?”

“I see a crippled old man, lame and thin and undeserving. And cranky, too.”

“That’s a shame. I see a man with experience; a man who can make me come six ways ‘til Sunday and still doubt his prowess. I see a man who is generous, and wise, and beautiful.” She brought her hand from his chest to his back, running it down his spine before cupping one of his cheeks and giving it a squeeze. The other hand wrapped around his hard cock and gave it a few soft strokes.

“I hope someday you see what I see. You have a keen mind, pet, but that’s not what has me gasping your name as I bring myself off on weeknights. It’s not your brain I think about when I rub my clit, imagining your tongue and fingers doing it for me.”

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Before he could wrap his mind around it all, she had taken his hand and was pulling him away.

“Come along. Up on the bed, all fours.”

He followed her like a puppy. Crawling onto the bed, he waited for her next instruction, pushing his shaggy greying hair from his face with one hand. She stood in front of him. He had to crane his neck a little to see her.

“This is where your punishment comes in, my pet.” She was holding the riding crop, stroking it gently in her delicate hands. “This won’t hurt, but it might sting a little. I’m going to spank you. I think ten smacks is fair, five to each cheek, and after every slap of the leather on your skin, I want you to thank me. What will you say?”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She slid a hand into his hair, leaned down, and kissed him with an unexpected force. Her lips were insistent against his, guiding him exactly where she wanted him; her hand in his hair tightened. She sucked in a breath as she pulled away, lips shining and red.

“That’s my good boy,” she said, strolling around the bed. He could feel her behind him, the air charged like that between two magnets. She touched his bottom lightly, trailing her fingers down one cheek and then the other. She cupped his balls and gave them a light squeeze. He hissed, rocking forward. “Does that feel good?” she asked, reaching forward to pump his cock once.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now let’s get started.”

She pressed the leather to his right cheek and rubbed it in slow, expanding circles. Suddenly it was gone, and just as suddenly he felt the slap of it against his skin. His hips shunted forward involuntarily and he gasped. He had not expected it to feel like… that!

It took him a moment to remember. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Rumford heard Belle sigh; she sounded pleased. She repeated the circling of the crop on his other cheek, and then repeated the slap.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

With each smack, he found himself becoming more and more aroused. This was not something he would have thought to enjoy, but he did. That was part of Belle’s allure; she introduced him to new worlds of thought, new parts of himself that he’d thought gone. All he’d ever done was hurt the people he cared about, but Belle had proven that she wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t going to give up on him.

He trusted her.

“Thank you Mistress,” he cried, exhaling a shaky breath. He didn’t have to maintain the mask, he didn’t feel the Monster breathing down his neck.

“Thank you Mistress!”

He felt totally whole. Himself.

“Thank you Mistress,” he panted for the tenth time. His punishment was up. Belle stroked the small of his back.

“How do you feel? Honestly.”

“I feel wonderful, Mistress.” He heard the sigh again, and felt Belle’s breath when she leaned down and pressed two kisses to his balls. She kissed each cheek, and he felt the residual sting of his spanking.

“My wonderful boy… I think you deserve a treat.” Moving around the bed, she encouraged him to sit more comfortably. She knelt beside him, fingers capturing the zipper of her bustier. She drew the tag down, parting the leather, and revealing the creamy skin of her chest. He didn’t dare touch until he had her permission, so he watched as she peeled off the top and cast it aside. “Would you like to touch me, Rum?”

He nodded. “Very much.”

“You may,” she said, smiling that irresistible smile.

He reached forward, cupping each breast. He relished the feeling of her soft skin beneath his fingers and the weight of her breasts in his hands. He drank in her little moans and sighs as he squeezed her gently, as he teased her nipples into peaks and rolled them between his fingers. Bending forward, he pulled one into his mouth, giving it a few short sucks before scraping it between his teeth on the release. She arched into his touch at that, and he eagerly repeated the gesture on her other nipple. He nuzzled the expanse between, pressing gentle kisses to her skin and tasting the salt of her sweat.

“That’s enough,” she purred, stroking a hand through his hair. She gently pulled his head up to steal a kiss. “Now, are you ready for your next challenge?”

He grinned. Belle laid back, hooked her thumbs under the elastic waistband of her panties and she wriggled out of them, dropping them to the floor with her bustier. She raised one leg and lifted it over his head so that he sat between her knees and he could see her, all of her, flushed and ready. She wiggled her hips, her grin self-assured, almost cocky.

“You are going to make me come three times.”

Ohhhh yes.

“First with nothing but your hands. The second time, with nothing but your mouth. And third, with nothing but your cock. Think you can handle that?”

“With pleasure, Mistress,” he growled, already moving himself into position.

“Remember the rules,” she warned, wagging a finger at him. The riding crop was beside her on the bed and he knew she’d use it if he misbehaved.

Rumford leaned forward, placing one hand beside her hip to hold up his weight. He lowered the other to her entrance, sliding his middle finger between her labia. She was slick, and he felt his cock twitch with pride. She wanted him. He slipped it into her, working it slowly back and forth. She sighed, hips shifting at his touch. This simple ministration, as pleasant as it may have been for both of them, would not be enough to bring off his delectable Mistress.

He slid his thumb over her clit, rubbing it clumsily. He could not move his thumb and his finger in sync, limited by the same type of rules that made it difficult to pat one’s head and rub one’s belly. Bringing his other hand down to join him, he shifted his weight to his elbows and used the thumb of his free hand on the bundle of nerves. He matched the rhythm to that of his probing finger. For each few upstrokes, he circled it once or twice and rubbed it side to side.

Belle began to cant her hips, which Rumple took as a readiness for more. He added his index finger and increased the speed of his thrusting. Belle whined, the shifting of her hips as incessant as the mewling from her throat. She moaned his name. He curled his fingers and fucked her more roughly, hoping to hit that little spot that would send her over the edge. He was successful, and with his thumb rubbing frantically at her clit, she came with a shout.

“Oh fuck! Rummm!”

Her muscles squeezed his slowing fingers. As she came down, chest heaving and face lit up, he pulled his fingers out gingerly, drawing them into his mouth to suck clean. She took a few moments to come round and he shifted between her legs, pressing his aching cock into the mattress.

“Such a good boy,” she cooed, reaching down. He scooted forward so that her hand was on his head. Running her fingers through his hair, Belle smiled. “Are you ready for the second part of your challenge?”

“Yes, Mistress!”

“You’re so eager.”

He grinned wolfishly. “Yes, Mistress.”

Withdrawing her hand and propping herself up on her elbows, she gave him a stern look betrayed by the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Don’t dally, then.”

She opened her legs as widely as possible, and Rumford buried his face in her core. He growled, the vibrations of his lips tickling her sensitive labia. Belle squeaked. He chose a path of no pity, instantly seeking her clit to flick his tongue against it. Moving lower, he lapped up the wetness his fingers had created, tongue probing her entrance, his swirling motion causing another delicious reaction from Belle. For the first time in his life, he wished his tongue was longer.

Instead he pulled it from her, bestowing a moment of attention on her labia. He traced each side with his tongue before placing kisses along her folds. She tasted so divine; if he had been a poet he might have composed haikus about her flavor. Instead he drank it in, letting his lips and tongue discover every centimeter of sensitive flesh.

He returned to her clit. Wrapping his lips around the swollen nub, he sucked, and was rewarded with bucking hips. He began to tease the bundle of nerves, an activity he much enjoyed. For long minutes he worked it, tongue and lips tugging her clit this way and that, kissing sucking licking, licking in long swipes and short strokes.

Just as his tongue started to really ache, he saw in his periphery that Belle’s arms were outstretched, one above her head and one to the side, and her fingers were clutching at the white bedspread. In a move he hoped would not earn him another spanking, he scraped his teeth over her clit.

She came, a yell reverberating around her small room, legs scrambling for purchase, hips jolting off the bed. Rumford pulled away, not wanting to overstimulate the sensitive beauty; instead he watched her in the midst of rapture. She looked more heavenly than he had the vocabulary to describe. His cock stirred, hips pushing against the mattress.

Without the distraction of cunnilingus, his very erect penis was so eager as to be painful. He groaned, sliding it along the soft cotton.

“Don’t,” Belle barked. She was breathing heavily. He stilled, respecting her command, and waited for her to come all the way down to give him his next instruction. Instead she pointed, Rumford’s gaze drawn to the nightstand. He crawled up the bed and reached over. Fishing a condom from the drawer, Belle grabbed his arm.

She drew him wordlessly over her, raising her head and capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Her tongue plundered his mouth, and she moaned softly at her own taste.

She broke the kiss and he moved into position, carefully unwrapping the condom and rolling it onto himself.

“Don’t you dare come until I have. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Belle wriggled down, making herself more comfortable in the nest of pillows. To his chagrin she kept her arms at her sides, and he knew he was to keep his hands and mouth away from her under penalty of crop; the only place they really touched was where they joined, Rumford pushing into her slowly.

Belle welcomed him, voice soft as she groaned, hips tilting to pull him in deeper. Her eyes had fluttered closed, denying him one more aspect of her that he craved in its absence. Channeling all his emotions into his cock, he began to thrust. He might not be able to write poetry, but he could pleasure her with long, filling strokes. Drawing slowly out before snapping back in, he measured his movements in accordance with her sighs and cries.

She bit her lower lip as he changed pace, teeth worrying the pink flesh. She cried out, “Yes, yes!” as he sped up, fucking her more roughly than he normally liked. This wasn’t a porno, after all. But he needed to satisfy her, and his own climax was approaching with dangerous rapidity.

The third orgasm proved to be the charm. Belle’s cries turned into a yell which she sustained for the length of her climax. Her fists clenched the comforter and pulled it up off the bed, her back arching. Her whole body trembled like a bowstring which has been pulled taut and then plucked. He was lost in her divinity; with a handful of forceful thrusts he spilled himself into the latex. He continued to thrust until he was soft, not wanting to jar Belle by pulling out. But his arms could no longer hold him and he collapsed.

Belle -or rather the panting, sweating, blubbering mass formerly known as Belle- wrapped herself around Rumford as soon as she could muster a thought. Her hands pushed the sweat-drenched hair back from his forehead, combing through the tangling mass.

“It’s over,” she whispered, voice raw. “The scene is over. Thank you Rumford, thank you so much!”

Still a little shaky, he turned his head. She initiated a kiss that lasted for several slow moments. Grinning like a fool, he pulled his sweaty body from hers and rolled over to lay beside his beautiful Belle. He tugged off the used rubber and tossed it in the waste bin.

She spoke s soon as she had enough breath to do so. “Now it’s time for aftercare. It’s important that we discuss the scene, what you liked and didn’t. Many people find cuddling or physical contact important to their aftercare, but that’s up to you. I’m here to support you in whatever you decide.”

He took a moment to consider. “I think I would like to hold you, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” Belle smiled, sitting up. She fluffed the pillows against the headboard. Rumford shifted to lean back against them, Belle crawling into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her middle. She turned to look up at him, laying her arms over his. “So. Let’s start with the positive. What did you enjoy?”

“This came as a surprise to me, but I enjoyed my punishment,” he said, smiling wryly. “I found the worries and stresses of my life fading away, replaced by a sense of certainty that you would take care of me. Which you did most wonderfully, of course. In future encounters of this nature, I might enjoy relinquishing that control for more extended periods of time.”

“I would be happy to do so. Was there anything you disliked strongly?”

“Well, I wasn’t wild about the undressing, but you already know that.”

“I won’t ask you to do it again if you don’t want to. We can make lists of hard and soft no’s, or just a no’s list. But I would like you to guess why I asked you to strip in such an intimate way.”

Gold gave a lopsided, wolfish grin, hands flaring dramatically as he spoke. “Oh, I don’t have to guess. I understood the purpose of each activity.”

“Ah, did you? Alright, my brilliant man, explain my reasoning to me.”

“With pleasure!” he trilled. “To start you had me remove your boots as an introduction to being submissive. You introduced the crop, and placing me on a lower plane was a good way to help me shift my perspective. Then the removal of my defenses, quite literally. You took off my suit, looked at my body with me in the mirror, and tried to show me what you see. You stroked my ego AND my cock!” he declared, Belle giggling against his collarbone.

“Then the spanking, to relinquish my control. Most effective, as I mentioned previously. Then the sensual pleasures… oh Gods Belle…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. A clever ploy to make me feel virile, I imagine. Another successful tactic,” he growled, claiming her lips in a kiss.

“Drat. My totally unselfish, completely-uninterested-in-three-consecutive-orgasms scheme to get your confidence up worked like a charm.”

“Well… no reason we can’t both benefit.” He smiled again, a habit when he was around Belle, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Alright, clever boy. You’ve figured me out. Now, how about a little shut eye? I’m knackered.”

“You’re knackered? Imagine how I feel! I don’t think Marines have such intense bootcamps…”

“That’s true, I turned down the offer to lend my vagina out to the American armed forces.”

“Ah, just a rumor then?”

She elbowed him in the ribs, smirking, and maneuvered under the covers. She left him to struggle on his own, and he retaliated with aggressive spooning. She giggled as he pinned her to his body, kissing the back of her neck through strands of sweat-stuck hair.

His stomach growled.

“We might need to break that no breakfast rule,” he murmured, eyes already falling shut under the weight of sleep.

“I’m willing to negotiate. Goodnight, Rum. And thank you again for being so open with me.”

“Of course sweetheart. Of course…”

Exhausted, they slipped into a deep sleep.


	11. Dinner Conversation

Belle woke before her paramour. She spent more time than was strictly appropriate watching him sleep: the rise and fall of his chest, his greying hair mussed and stuck to his face, the occasional grumble and twitch of his leg.

With a soft sigh she pulled herself away from the temptation of his skin, swaying softly as she stood. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, pleased to see that he was still sleeping when she returned. She cleaned up her own discarded clothes, put away the riding crop, and set his cane beside the bed where he could easily reach it. Instead of dressing, she slipped on a pair of purple panties and his shirt, left on her chair the night before.

She rolled up the sleeves as she entered the kitchen and put on coffee. While their agreement did indicate that breakfast was not on the menu, her stomach was growling and they’d tentatively agreed the night before to amend their contract. Just this once, anyway.

Belle put bacon on the stove and pulled eggs from the fridge. Her mind wandered.

There was no longer any way to deny the state of her emotions. The more time they spent together, the more she knew she was totally, irrevocably in love with Rumford Gold. And for every ounce of her own certainty, she was met with doubt and uncertainty about his feelings for her. The small bird of her heart liked to sing, _He loves you! You can feel it in his kisses, in his trust; you can see it in his eyes. Surely he wouldn’t spend this much time with you if he didn’t love you. Tell him! Tell him how you feel!_

But as brave as she could be, there was no denying the selfish cowardice which begged her to keep quiet. If he did not reciprocate- and there was no way to know for sure whether he did or didn’t- then she would be crushed. She would lose her best friend.

The scales were tipped in favor of keeping her mouth shut.

She forced herself to stop moping about it. No more equivocating. And yet…

Her mind, ever the Brutus, continued to wander as she cut up vegetables for omelets. The way her heart fluttered when he touched her face. The way he smelled so good all the time, like he bathed in the world’s most expensive cologne. The way he looked when he came, the way he laughed at her jokes, his astounding ability to introduce her to new lines of thinking without patronizing her… She surprised herself by sighing audibly.

The crackle of the bacon demanded her attention. Best to put these thoughts away for a while.

* * *

 

Gold woke with a start. He checked the clock on the bedside table and breathed a sigh of relief; he had another couple of hours before it was time to pick up Bae.

Belle had abandoned him at some point, and he could smell bacon frying. As if on cue, his stomach growled. His cane was closer than he remembered it being, Belle’s work no doubt, and it was a blessing when he stood and his ankle screamed in pain. Hobbling to his clothes, he dressed. Underwear, undershirt, belt, the cufflinks and tie he slipped into his pockets, jackets thrown over his arm and… no shirt. That was promising.

A quick trip to the bathroom was in order; he made sure to rinse out his mouth and check his hair in the mirror before leaving again, limping a little more heavily on his cane than normal.

Walking into the kitchen half-dressed, he found his shirt. Belle turned to him and smiled.

“Good morning. No pink robe today?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for another jaunt in the shower. I’d hate to tease you like that,” he grinned, leaning down for a kiss… or four.

She nipped his lip before letting him go, turning to add bacon to two plates already steaming with what looked like mushroom omelets.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” he said as she handed him a plate and a fork. He took a seat at the island counter where a mug of coffee sat waiting.

“I can’t, not like you can. I can make like, four things, and all of them are for breakfast,” she said, settling in beside him.

He skewered a mushroom, some cheese, and a bit of egg on his fork and took a bite, chasing it with coffee. “This is great, Belle.”

“You don’t need to stroke my ego, Rumford.”

“I’m not! You make a divine omelet.”

“Well, thank you. I’m glad we amended our breakfast clause, if only for today.”

“Sometime I’d like to make you waffles, if only to show you that I can do breakfast, too.”

“What, it wouldn’t do to bring waffles for lunch?”

“Definitely not,” he said, taking another large bite.

“Then I guess we’ll be having breakfast again sometime,” she said, taking a bite of her own and smirking.

“Thinking of meals, we still need to schedule that dinner.”

“You really don’t mind me invading your home like that?”

“Why would I have invited you, if I minded?”

“I don’t know… It’s just… It’s a big deal.”

Putting down his fork, he reached over and stroked her cheek. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

“No, that’s not it at all! I just know how important Bae is to you, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m invading your space.”

“You know, for a highly intelligent woman with multiple degrees, you’re kind of an idiot.”

Belle laughed, smacking his shoulder playfully. “Good thing I have you here to remind me.”

“So, what night are you coming over?”

“How about Friday?”

“I cannot possibly wait that long. Monday.”

“I can do Monday.”

They grinned. When they finished eating, Gold helped Belle with the dishes. As he was towel drying a bowl, Belle turned to him, leaning against the counter.

“Do you think he’ll like me?”

“Who, Bae? Of course. He’s going to love you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because...” He almost said, _because he knows I’m in love with you already and would like nothing more than for me to put a ring on your finger._ But instead, he said, “Good taste runs in my family.”

She raised a single eyebrow.

“Just trust me, Belle. He wants to meet you. It’s going to be great.”

“Fine. What can I bring?”

“Yourself.”

“Alright. He had another sleepover last night I presume?”

“Yes. I should head home and shower before it’s time to pick him up.” He held out a hand.

Belle shrugged off his shirt and deposited it in his palm. He groaned, eyes raking over her body.

“You were saying you had to go,” she said, smirking.

“Y-Yes, yeah, I do.” He pulled his shirt on and moved to button it, but Belle pushed his hands away and took over. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slipped each delicate button through its hole.

“I’ll see you first thing Monday morning.”

“Not if I see you first,” he muttered, recognizing how inane that sounded as he bent down for a kiss.

When they finally parted, Belle walked him to the door. She stayed behind it, to shield from prying eyes, and insisted on another slow, lingering kiss before he slipped on his jacket and was gone.

* * *

 

Belle once more found herself sitting in her car in Mr. Gold’s driveway, but instead of wine she was clutching a box of store-bought éclairs, and instead of butterflies, a horde of vorpal bunnies was gnawing away at her stomach. She jumped when someone knocked on her passenger-side window.

A boy with a mop of shaggy hair and his father’s brown eyes smiled at her and waved. Belle, feeling very silly, climbed out of her car.

“Hey. You must be Baelfire.”

“Call me Bae,” he said, coming around the car to shake her hand. “My dad’s not that scary, you know.”

“I know. What makes you think I’m scared of him?”

“You were hiding in your car.”

Belle laughed, and grinned. Bae started walking slowly to the front door, and she silently applauded his subtlety as she moved to follow. “I wasn’t hiding. Well, not really. And truth be told, I’m more scared by you than by your father.”

“Me? I’m a kid!”

“Exactly! What if you think I’m lame? Or mean? Your opinion means a lot to your dad. You could have me out on my butt like that!” she said, snapping with her free hand.

Baelfire grinned and looked at the ground. “I wouldn’t do that. Besides, he really likes you. I mean _really._ You’re probably the only person besides me he likes in the whole town, and I’m not sure that even my worst mood could change that.”

Belle blushed. “Thank you, Bae. That was a very nice thing to say.”

“I know,” he said, opening the door and welcoming her in. “I kinda want you to like me too.”

“Bae!” came a shout from the kitchen, from which Belle could smell something tantalizing. “Belle is going to be here any minute, I need you to set the table, and please brush your hair. You look like a street ra-”

He stopped short when he came to the entryway, wiping his hand on a towel and with a large red streak of something across his cheek.

“Oh. Hi. Uh, I see you two have already met?”

“We have. And I quite like your hair, Bae, it makes you look cool.” She patted the boy on the shoulder. He took the éclairs from her and walked into the kitchen.

“Like you know anything about cool.”

“Oh, what a barb! Can I give you a hand, Mr. Gold?”

“No you cannot. This is a dinner party; guests need not concern themselves with the preparation. And what was that Bae had? I told you not to bring anything.”

“I popped by the store and grabbed dessert.”

He scoffed. “I made homemade ice cream.”

“You can do that?”

“I have a machine.”

“Of course you do.” Belle walked by him into the kitchen. “That’s a lovely apron, by the way.”

Rumford flushed, crossing his arms to obscure the words ‘Kiss the Cook’.

“Seriously, how can I help?”

“You cannot!”

Bae appeared at Belle’s elbow. “You can help me set the table. Plates and stuff are in this cabinet,” he said, taking Belle by the hand and leading her over.

“Bae, we don’t asks guests to set the table.”

“Belle’s not a guest. She’s a friend. Right Belle?”

“Exactly! Now, I never remember on which side the fork goes. Can you show me?”

Rumford regrettably returned to his cooking, glaring at his son and the librarian as often as possible. They were giggling and whispering, more to annoy him than anything else, and in a few short minutes the table was set.

“Mmm, Rumford, that smells amazing. What are you making?”

“I made pasta puttanesca,” he said, appearing with a large, ornate serving dish. “With eggplant, oregano, and cherry tomatoes.”

“I love cherry tomatoes!” Belle exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“I know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that when I make a dish with tomatoes, you look like a starving Tasmanian devil and it disappears in a cartoonish blur.”

Bae rolled his eyes, and Belle just smiled. The boy disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a bowl of salad and a basket of bread.

“I think you should take that as a compliment. I love your food! If it weren’t for my Wednesday yoga, I’d have put on twenty pounds at least.”

“And you’d be just as ravishing,” Gold said with a vibrant gesticulation, pulling out a chair.

“Well, thank you, Mr. Gold,” she said as she sat, Gold pushing her chair in. “Such a gentleman.”

“I want to set a good example for Bae. Teach him how to respect the women in his life.”

“Papa, I’m ten. There aren’t a lot of women in my life.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been following Miss Swan to the park on Sundays.”

“Wait,” Belle said, serving herself a portion of salad while Gold spooned some pasta on her plate, “Emma Swan? High school freshman Emma Swan?”

“She’s only fourteen! And I’m almost eleven. It could happen.”

“Trust me, she’s too much woman for you.” Gold heaped Bae’s plate full until the boy swatted his arm away.

“I agree with Bae. Age differences aren’t so significant when you’re older,” Belle said. Looking at his plate, she saw that Rumford, in providing for the others, had neglected his own dish. It had only a few rigatoni on it, and Belle frowned. She took the serving spoon and ladled another full scoop onto his plate. He looked at her incredulously, but she just smiled. When a cherry tomato rolled off his plate, she plucked it from the table and popped it into her mouth.

“Yeah,” said Bae. “Age isn’t that important. How old are you Belle?”

And suddenly she was choking on the tomato. With a few coughs and a rough swallow, a red blush creeping down her neck and disappearing beneath the hemline of her dress, she did her best to smile at the boy.

“Bae, never ask a woman her age,” Rumford scolded.

“But she’s younger than you, right?”

“That’s… that’s inconsequential. We’re not romantically involved.”

“But you could be.”

Belle shoved a piece of bread in her mouth. Gold shot her a pleading look, and she just shrugged.

“By that logic, I could be involved with any woman in Storybrooke. But I’m not.”

Bae, definitely too smart for a ten year old, dropped the subject with an eye roll. “Okay. Can you pass the bread please, Papa?”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, only the sound of forks and chewing to fill the silence.

“This puttanesca is marvelous, Rumford. Will I be seeing leftovers for lunch tomorrow?”

“If you like. I thought I might bring a PB&J.”

“Do you even know how to make one?”

“I’m assuming there’s peanut butter involved.”

Bae grinned. “Don’t let him fool you Belle, he makes a great PB&J! Extra crunchy peanut butter and strawberry jelly. Sometimes he slips potato chips in.”

“That sounds delicious!”

“The chips are a secret ingredient,” Gold said, winking at Belle.

They carried on polite conversation through the meal. Belle finished her own plate and proceeded to steal bits of tomato from Rum’s, earning herself some annoyed glances. When he started shoving his noodles and eggplant around without eating any, it was her turn to stare. With a sigh, he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth.

“Ifs nah like ‘am anorefxic,” he said mid-chew.

“You’re too thin. I worry.”

“Well, we want to save room for dessert, don’t we?”

“Sure. Why don’t Bae and I clear the table while you finish?”

It wasn’t really a question. She and the boy stood in unison, grabbing up the serving bowls and carrying them off. They even cleared their plates, and his, Bae stacking them in the sink like Rumford was constantly nagging him to do. He heard the two conspirators share a high-five before they returned the dining room.

“So Belle, what’s your favorite Disney movie?”

“That’s a specific question.”

“Girls like Disney movies.”

“Lots of people like Disney movies. Which one is your favorite?”

“I like _Lilo and Stich_. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I always liked _Tarzan_. I like Jane. She’s very smart and brave and confident, and she has such marvelous adventures!”

“That’s true. Have you seen _Atlantis_? I think you’d like the girl in that one, too.”

“I haven’t. I’ll see if I can track down a copy.”

“I have one. We could do a movie night!” He looked to Rumford, who had been watching the exchange fondly.

“If Belle wants to, sure.”

“What’s your favorite Disney film, Mr. Gold?”

“I’m quite fond of _Hercules_.”

“How come?”

“It’s fairly clever, for starters. And it shows that heroism and intelligence are not always correlated.”

Belle laughed.

Bae, sitting on the edge of his chair with his hands tucked beneath his thighs, looked eagerly between the two adults. “Uh… I need to run to my room for a few minutes. Will you call me for dessert?” He dashed off, not waiting for an answer.

Rumford cleared his throat, folding and unfolding his hands atop the table.

“He’s wonderful, you know. Just like you.”

“I’m very lucky.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Thank you again for inviting me over.”

“Of course.”

“It was delicious.”

“It was… You haven’t tried my ice cream yet.”

“I can’t believe you made ice cream. Most people just buy it.”

“I’m not most people.”

“I know.” Belle smiled, biting her lower lip. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Is it as hard for you as it is for me?”

“You mean the whole not-devouring-you-whole thing? Yes. It’s hard. Should it be this hard?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bae thinks he’s being very sneaky. Leaving us alone.”

“He just wants you to be happy,” Belle said, reaching out and taking one of his hands. He intertwined his fingers with hers and sighed.

“I know. It’s just… this thing we have… it’s complicated.”

Belle felt the vorpal bunnies again. “It is.”

“I don’t want him to think we’re…”

“…Something that we’re not,” she finished.

“Exactly.”

“I’m glad we can at least agree on that,” she said, laughing nervously. Gold shifted in his seat.

“Well, why don’t we whip up desert? What did you bring again?”

“Éclairs.”

“Right, sugary mass-produced monstrosities.”

“So where do you keep the ice cream machine? Creepy dungeon basement?”

“No, just in the pantry. Besides, it’s raspberry flavored. You love raspberries.”

“You don’t know everything about me, you know.”

Belle plated the éclairs and Rumford scooped out some ice cream onto each one. He hollered for his son, who joined them back in the dining room.

After they finished, Belle made a comment about the lateness of the hour and Rumford offered to walk her out. Bae hugged her before Rumford shooed him away.

Gold opened her car door for her.

“Thank you again for the wonderful evening. I’m looking forward to having that pasta again tomorrow.”

“This might be forward, but when can I… see you again?”

“We’ve had good luck on Fridays. Should we continue that tradition?”

“At the very least.”

“Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow for our customary flirtations.” She cupped his jaw, fingers moving slowly forward, beneath his jaw. The gentle trail of her fingertips set his skin aflame. Rising up on her tip toes, she kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Belle.”

“Goodnight, Rum.”

He watched her drive away, eventually returning to the house. Bae was waiting on the stairs.

“That seemed like a pretty great date to me.”

“It’s not a date if you bring your kid.”

“Right. That lipstick is too bright for you.”

Rumford’s hand shot up to his cheek. “That’s different. Friendly. Could you be a little less brilliant, please?”

“Probably not. Night, dad.”

“Night Bae. Sleep tight.”

Rumford watched his son go up the stairs before turning to his study. He was definitely going to need a glass of scotch before bed. And probably a cold shower.


	12. Better Than Yoga

Belle let herself into his classroom after school on Wednesday, and Gold felt his face break into a grin of its own volition. She walked between the lab stations, arms outstretched so that she could drag her fingertips across the hard plastic. She swung her hips more than was probably necessary.

“So, my yoga class was canceled. I thought I recalled Bae having soccer, which would mean that you might be free for the next couple of hours…”

Gold’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. He swallowed. “Uh, uh-huh, yes I am. How do you propose we spend the time?”

“Well, I still need to get my exercise,” she said, biting her lip. She reached his desk and stood before him, clasping her hands behind her and twisting from side to side.

“Oh God. Oh, please. Yes please,” he said, standing and grabbing his coat and cane. He was at her side in an instant.

“I need to grab my purse from the library. Meet at my place?”

“See you in fifteen.” He locked the door while she scampered back to her own desk to gather her things.

“Ms. French.”

Belle’s heart dropped. “Yes, Principal Mills?”

The mayor emerged from the shadowy stacks like a spider. “Where are you off to so suddenly?”

“Home. Can I help you with something?”

“Can’t a boss make healthy inquiries into the lives of her employees?”

“She can inquire, but she might not get a response.”

Regina chuckled politely. “I’m just a little concerned about you, dear. You don’t seem to have many friends among the staff.”

“That’s entirely dependent on how you view the situation. I could say the same thing about you, Principal Mills.”

“You and Mr. Gold are very close, are you not?”

Belle sighed. “Permission to speak freely, sergeant?”

“You know you can tell me anything, Belle.”

“I’d like you to stop asking about my personal life. You are my boss, and our professional working relationship needs to remain just that: professional. Who I spend my time with is not relevant to how I do my job.”

“Oh, but it might be. Love has a way of distracting people. They make poor choices. They make mistakes. I mean, look at how your relationship with our gym teacher turned out; that was an awkward fiasco. I’d hate to see that happen to you again, dear.”

Belle grabbed her jacket and bag more gruffly than was necessary. “I must have been speaking in tongues, because you seem to have ignored me. Good afternoon, Miss Mills,” she said, walking past the pushy woman and out of the library as fast as humanly possible.

Gold’s Cadillac was already gone. By the time she got to her apartment, very intentionally NOT letting her anger control her speed, Gold was leaning against the door.

“There you are,” he said as she climbed from her car. “I’ve been snarling at passersby for a good ten minutes.”

“Come on,” she growled, unlocking the outer door. It opened with a click and she grabbed his tie, pulling him inside. She let him go long enough to get up the stairs, but then she was unlocking the second door and pulling him inside, pressing herself back against the door and tugging him firmly against her. She pushed her mouth against his so hard that their teeth smacked together, lips hot and insistent as she devoured him. Her hands were fisted tightly in his lapels to keep him close.

He was gripping her hips and returning her kisses with equal passion, but after a few minutes his conscience overtook his zeal. With unintelligible muttered protestation he pulled away, gasping for breath.

“What happened?” he asked, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit. You don’t have to tell me, but don’t insult me, please.”

She sighed. “Regina happened. She was asking invasive questions and being as vague and annoying as possible.”

“She makes a habit of that.”

“Gods, that woman pisses me off. Even worse… she suspects us.”

“What, you mean…”

“She thinks we’re romantically involved. And that I won’t be able to do my job properly, and you’ll break my heart and then I’ll be a friendless wretch forever.” Belle made a sound of disgust, moving around him to walk through the space with her hands on her hips. “The worst part, the really reprehensible part, is that she pretended to care. I don’t think that woman is capable of caring about anyone but herself.”

“I agree that she’s the devil mistress, but she’s not entirely cold-hearted. She was in love once. His death nearly ruined her.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Belle said, stopping in the kitchen. “I can’t say it makes me more inclined to forgive her.”

“Nor should it.” Cane in hand, he walked over to her, putting a hand on the side of her neck. “We’re all human, Belle. Some of us are just better at it than others, kinder or stronger or smarter. Perhaps we should spend less time together at school.”

“No, fuck that. Fuck her,” Belle said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Our work relationship hasn’t changed. It won’t, right? If something happens to this, we can still work together.”

Rumford’s mind immediately jumped forward to the moment Belle would leave him. When she met someone else, or realized he was too old for her, or he fucked it up by professing his undying love for her in the school cafeteria.

“Of course. Of course we’ll be the same.”

Belle tipped her head in the way she did whenever she caught him in a lie. But instead of saying anything, she pulled him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her middle, clutching her close as his tongue licked across the seam of her mouth. She opened for him, her hands pushing his jacket down off his shoulders and ripping at his tie.

She managed to work the top of his shirt open and slide her hands in, thumbs running over his jaw while her fingers tickled the hairs at the nape of his neck. He could do little but hold her like the world was ending, turning to press her back against the counter while his tongue sought out the places in her mouth that turned her knees to jelly.

She keened, rolling her hips against his hardening cock. He bucked against her, teeth nipping her lower lip, which elicited a growl from the petite Belle. Her hands moved down his chest, ripping open his shirt and tearing the buttons from their threads. He growled again as she raked her nails up his sides. A little ticklish, he bucked against her again. With one hand he reached up and buried his fingers in her hair, taking a firm hold close to the roots; he pulled her head back and set his mouth to work on her throat.

She gasped as he scraped his teeth over her pulse point before biting down, suckling at the skin to leave a mark. Rumford sucked and licked at her neck for as long as she let him, before she clasped one of her hands over his clothed cock. One squeeze and he released her neck and hair, his own head falling back in appreciation. Belle seized the opportunity to leave a mark of her own over his collarbone. She kept one hand stroking over his member, the other sliding around to squeeze a butt cheek.

He rasped her name when she bit down on his clavicle. “Belle… _Belle_!” The teasing of her clever hands was becoming too much and he pulled them away; spinning her around, he pinned her to the counter, pressing his erection against her bottom. She groaned and rocked back against him, canting her hips.

Rumford tugged her blouse free from her skirt, stroking the delicate skin of her stomach. Belle shuddered. She grabbed the silky material and yanked it up over her head, discarding it and quickly covering his hands with hers. She followed his movements as he rubbed circles across her abdomen, working his way up to the line of her bra. He groaned as his fingers touched the blue lace covering her breasts, gently kneading them through the rough fabric. She encouraged him with light touches to move in directions that were more pleasing for her: cupping her breasts from below and pushing up, raking his nails across the surface from the inside out, pressing the nipple between the thumb and fingers while stroking in a downwards motion.

Frustrated, he pulled the cups down to feel the softness of her skin against his calloused hands. She didn’t seem to mind, reaching back to unclasp her bra and wriggle out of it. However the slow pace of his ministrations seemed to be growing old; Belle began to grind herself back against him more aggressively. He bucked against her, slamming her hips into the counter. She keened, rubbing up and down along his length.

“Fuck me Rumford!”

“As my lady wishes,” he growled, grabbing the hem of her skirt. He dragged it up to gather at her waist before hooking his fingers into the lace of her panties and yanking them down. He crouched, favoring his ankle, and buried his face in her cunt. She was wet, which never failed to inflate his ego, and she squirmed as he flicked out his tongue to taste her. He licked every inch of her he could reach, bringing up one hand to rub at her clit. Mewling, she tilted her hips to press against his fingers.

He probed her entrance with his tongue and gave it a swirl. She squeaked, and he grinned. She made such delicious noises! Encouraged, he teased her with his tongue until the constant motion of her hips belied her need for more attention from a different part of his anatomy. He stood, shrugged off his shirt and jacket, and then turned to his pants, fumbling with his belt in his haste. Belle reached back and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, a feat that demonstrated unbelievable dexterity and clarity of mind, while he was still futzing with his pants. He got them to the floor with a clatter, boxers following soon after. He groaned to feel the cool air on his cock.

Belle handed him the condom that he’d put in his wallet shortly after they altered the terms of their relationship. She winked at him before turning back around. He rolled on the condom, stepping behind her to find just the right place, and she adjusted her stance as well, hips waving enticingly.

Summoning every ounce of patience, he pushed into her slowly, inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, until he was buried. There he stopped, needing to know that she was comfortable and adjusted. He got the message when she growled and rocked back against him forcefully, sliding his cock partially out of her before driving it back in again. He took the hint, hands grabbing her hips, beginning to thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Harder, Rumford,” she said, panting, “Please fuck me harder!”

“As you wish,” he growled, driving his hips forward to collide with hers. Over and over he felt the sweet bliss of filling her, her pussy warm and welcoming; she slid back to meet him on each stroke so that his thrusts drove her forward over the laminate countertop.

“Oh, Gods, yes!” she cried, hands wandering, searching for things to hold onto. Her right found a ledge in front of the window, her left the edge of the sink. “Yes, YES!”

Gold’s hand wandered too, mapping her back with his palm and fingertips. While his right stayed grounded on her hip, his left crept over her ribs and down her spine, across her shoulder blades and up to the nape of her neck. He slipped it into her hair experimentally, taking a handful but not pulling on it any more than was caused by their rough rhythm.

“Is this alright?” he asked, slowing to hear her answer.

“Definitely!” She threw her head back, encouraging him to take a tighter hold. He did, and picked up his pace, staying close to her with shallow, hard strokes. She cried out again, “Oh Fuck! Fuck, Rum!”

“I thought… I was… darling…”

She laughed. After a few minutes of the roughest sex they’d had to date, she started rolling her hips, drawing out the length of his strokes, pulling him in to fill her completely.

She whimpered, hips restless. “I need to see you.”

“Of course,” he whispered, pulling out and releasing her hair. He felt colder. Belle turned and stretched, resting her bottom precariously on the edge of the counter. As he stepped forward she placed one hand on his shoulder, drawing her legs up and open. He wasted no time pushing back into her, his hands sliding under her thighs to help hold her up.

He chose a new rhythm to fit their new position, sharp upstrokes accompanied by slow withdrawals. Belle’s hand flexed on his shoulder, the other clutching the edge of the counter. She grinned, looking at him with wide eyes. He matched her gaze, hoping he didn’t look too much like an unkempt villain. Her face and chest were flushed, her lips parted to make room for all her gasps and moans, but her eyes were warm and bright. When she bit her lip his hips surged forward involuntarily, the motion rocking him forward and causing his abdomen to press against her clit.

She yelped, her back arching into the touch. “Oh God Rum, oh my God!”

He stayed tipped forward so that each stroke dragged his skin across her swollen clit. Her nails dug in where she was gripping his shoulder; he focused on the slight pain to keep his orgasm at bay, wanting to pleasure Belle for as long as he could. The wildness in her today was intoxicating.

It was wildness in bloom as she screamed, head thrown back, body shaking as she came, her muscles clenching around his cock. The intensity of her orgasm pitched her forward, her arms flung around his neck and put all her weight on Rumford. He held her through her climax, but his ankle was screaming. He felt his hands slip from her legs as he could no longer support them both, and he wrapped an arm around Belle to keep her from falling to the floor. She landed on her feet, still a little shaky, and gasped, his cock slipping out of her.

He leaned against her leaning against the counter, a mess of arms and sweat and hair.

“I’m so sorry Rumford, are you all right?”

He nodded, struggling to kick off his shoes and step out of his pants.

“Liar. Come on, let’s get you on the bed,” she said, sliding his arm around her neck and taking as much of his weight as she could, dragging her limping lover to the bedroom.

He sat heavily on the white comforter. Belle prodded at him until he was in the center and lying on his back, the sweet brunette moving to straddle him. She grinned as she settled into place, her wet pussy sliding against his cock. He groaned.

“I’m sorry, pet,” she said, stroking his chest, hips moving in circles. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Can I make it better?” she purred, taking him in hand and pressing his covered tip to her entrance.

“Please.” He touched her thighs reverently as she slid down over his shaft, wiggling to get adjusted. She giggled as he bucked, moving eagerly into a pattern of motion. Belle rode him perfectly, the right mixture of slow and sweet. She leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss, which he was only too happy to give. She rocked slowly while she plucked at his lips, sliding her tongue into his mouth.

For a little while this was enough. He was comforted by the way she enveloped him, scent and taste and feel, but then his hips started to buck more erratically, his need for release grower stronger. Belle followed his lead, sitting up to increase her speed. She took his hands, interlocked their fingers, and used the new ballast to ride him harder.

She moaned, driving her hips down to sheath his cock completely. With each drop, he thrust up to meet her, his balls slapping against her ass. Tilting her hips forward she managed to find a position that would stimulate her clit and soon she was squeezing his hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She keened.

“Fuck, Rum, I’m so close!”

“Me… too,” he said, eyes captivated by her bouncing breasts.

“Come for me, please come for me!”

“As you wi- OH FUCK!” he cried as his orgasm took him by surprise, hips driving into her erratically as he filled the condom, pumping through his climax. Belle followed him over the edge, her walls milking him for every last drop of cum. She moaned in pleasure as she came down from the rush, climbing gingerly off Rumford and dropping to his side, one hand still clasped in his. They lay there panting for several long minutes.

Finally, Rumford pulled the condom off and chucked it at the waste bin.

“You missed,” Belle teased.

“I’ll pick it up before I go. That was… wild.”

“A bit, yeah,” she said, laughing. “It’s new every time, with you.”

“And always good,” he added.

“Always!”

They smiled, filling the silence by toying with their shared hands.

Belle was the first to break it. “As you wish… you kept saying that. Borrowing from _The Princess Bride_?”

“Those script writers were nothing until they met me,” he said, waving his other hand in a vibrant gesticulation.

“I love that movie,” Belle hummed, rolling onto her side. He matched her. They lay there, nose to nose, not quite kissing.

“It is a pretty great piece of cinema.”

“We should add it to our movie night list with that Disney one Bae wants me to see.”

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly feeling very sad. “Speaking of which, I should be getting home. He’ll be back from soccer soon.”

“Yeah, of course. Want to shower first?”

“That’d be lovely.”

She kissed him, bringing up her free hand to stroke his cheek. He kissed her palm before he stood, walking shakily to the bathroom.

When she heard the water turn on, she stretched, and stood. She picked up their clothes from her kitchen and laid his out on the bed with his cane and wallet. The dress shirt was ruined, the buttons scattered across her apartment. She wrapped herself in a simple robe and went back to the kitchen, putting on the kettle for tea. He joined her about ten minutes later.

“It’s Earl Grey,” she said, handing him the cup. “Sorry about your shirt.”

“It’s not a problem, I have plenty,” he said, buttoning his jacket to cover his torso. He took a swig of the tea before setting the cup down.

“So, will you be free at all this weekend?”

“Um, I don’t know. Thanks for the tea. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Yeah, see you.”

She watched him leave. Something was different. Something was bothering him. She sipped her tea.


	13. Fairytale

Belle arrived at school a little late the next morning, the line for coffee having been longer than usual. She was shocked, however, to find that she had beaten Rumford. His classroom was dark and locked, the staff lounge was empty, the copy room desolate. With a frown of her painted lips –she’d worn Rumford’s favorite color, Berry Blush- she headed to her library.

She had planned to go visit him before the morning bell rang, but a surge of children with late books kept her busy through first period. And he taught all morning, with an afternoon prep, so she didn’t see him until lunch, which really took its time rolling around.

“Hello,” she chirped, flouncing into his classroom. “Your coffee is cold, but I brought it anyway. What’s for eats?”

“A simple spaghetti. Thanks,” he said, taking the coffee and setting it aside.

Belle dug in to the Tupperware with gusto, crossing her legs in the hopes of drawing his eyes somewhere besides his desk. It didn’t work.

“I had a lot of fun yesterday,” she said.

“Yes, it was great.” He stirred his noodles and glared at a meatball.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Belle was forced to put down the fork and grab his attention by tapping the back of his hand.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the matter? Something was bothering you yesterday and it’s still bothering you, apparently.”

“Nothing.”

She scoffed. “What was it you said? ‘You don’t have to tell me, but don’t insult my intelligence’?”

He sighed, hearing his own words thrown back at him. “Fine. I have been thinking quite a lot.”

“About…?”

“About us.”

Belle felt as though she’d been kicked in the gut. She knew that eventually he would break it off with her, that he’d get bored or busy or find someone else, but she’d hoped for more than a month. A year, maybe, before the heartbreak consumed her.

“Oh.”

She felt the sorrow swell in anticipation of his next words.

“I don’t… I don’t think we should do that anymore.”

Belle nodded, hands fidgeting in her lap. _Do not cry_ , she told herself, _You will not cry._

“It’s just so complicated. And like you said yesterday, we need to stay professionals. And I’d hate to lose you as a friend…”

“No, I understand,” she said. “It’s probably for the best.”

He reached for her hand and she pulled away. He flexed his fingers in the air for a moment, like he was feeling for something in the dark, before he cleared his throat and reached for his fork.

She couldn’t sit here. She couldn’t do this. She could not eat fucking spaghetti and pretend that her heart wasn’t shattering.

“I need some time,” she said, standing. “And some space.”

He stood too. “Of course.”

She measured her steps and her breaths and she left the room as quickly as possible. The hallway was too small, too suffocating, too loud – but even back in her library sanctuary she felt like she was choking. She fled to a dusty corner and let herself sink to the floor, sobs racking her chest. With clumsy fingers she set the timer on her phone to ten minutes, about how much time was left in lunch, and she let herself cry.

When the timer went off, she stood, wiped her face, and adjusted her clothes. She slipped into the staff bathroom conveniently located in the back of the library and pressed a damp paper towel to her face, especially her eyes. Most of her makeup was gone, but beauty was not her primary concern. Getting through the day was priority number one.

And she was going to fucking conquer it.

She smiled at kids, checked out books, led a class on research techniques, sent in an order with scholastic, and dusted the fiction section. When the day was over she booked it straight to her car. Luckily she met Ruby in the parking lot, and the leggy brunette wouldn’t let her go without making a date for the following day.

“I’m taking you to dinner and you’re going to tell me everything, capiche?”

“Understood.”

Ruby nodded, and Belle climbed into her car.

The second she reached her apartment she stripped off all her layers and climbed into a hot shower. Again she let herself go, this time without a timer, indulging in all the painful thoughts she’d suppressed in order to do her job.

_He doesn’t love you._

_You’ve imagined yourself like some heroine, winning herself a prince, but the joke’s on you because the prince isn’t interested._

_He probably didn’t even enjoy the sex as much as you did, he probably didn’t feel the electricity you felt._

_You made it up. You gave your heart away. And for what?_

_Now you’re empty, and you’ll be empty forever._

* * *

Gold slunk home, feeling worse than he could ever remember feeling. Bae greeted him with a smile, and a story from school, and enthusiasm about the night’s cooking class. Fuck, he’d forgotten. Cooking class.

That night they learned how to make banana bread. Bae was thrilled to have a new dessert recipe to try; he couldn’t stop talking about it in the car on the way home.

“Maybe we can make banana bread for the movie night with Belle!”

“Um, sure,” Gold said, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“Do you know when she’s coming over?”

“Uh, it might be a while…”

“Why?”

“We’re, um… we’re fighting at the moment.”

“What are you fighting about?”

“Uh, well, maybe fighting isn’t the right word…”

Bae sighed. “What did you do, Papa?”

“What makes you think it was my fault?”

“Because Belle adores you, and you’re the only one who doubts that and could screw it up.”

“Bae, what kind of language is that?”

The boy huffed, turning to look out the window. “I’m sorry, I’m just sick of waiting for you to realize that she’s your true love.”

“There’s no such thing as true love.”

“That’s what Emma says, but I know she’s my true love. And Belle is yours.”

“You’ve got to stop this, Bae. I appreciate you looking out for me, but Belle… Belle and I might not even be friends anymore. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future.”

“Well, that’s obvious. You’re going to win her back.”

Gold sighed, pulling into the driveway. “I envy your clarity, son, but the world isn’t that simple. She’s asked me to leave her alone for a while, and I have to respect that.”

“Of course you do. But when you start talking again, you’re going to tell her how much you love her and fix it.” Bae grinned, climbed out of the car, and bounced up to the house.

Gold sighed, leaning his head back. That sounded so simple, truly… but he was a coward. And cowardice was never rewarded.

After making Bae brush his teeth and tucking him into bed, Gold limped down to his study. His ankle was still sore from the day before, and, if he was being honest with himself, it was probably amplified by his poor mood. His body was punishing him for betraying the beautiful Belle.

He poured himself a healthy glass of scotch and sat back in his favorite chair.

_You did the right thing_ , he reassured himself. _It’s not like she was going to stay with you forever. This way she’ll have more time to meet someone, fall in love… Breaking it off was the only way to preserve your heart. She might be your True Love, but you’re not hers. You can’t give her the life she wants. You can’t imagine she’d choose an old, cranky cripple and his preteen child over the chance to start a family of her own… And if she decides to forgive you, if you can be friends again… Well, then everything will have worked out for the best._

“It’s for the best,” he muttered, taking a large sip.

_You always knew you’d die with an empty heart. This is just speeding up the process._

* * *

“Ruby, the Rabbit Hole isn’t exactly a prime dinner location.”

“They make sick burgers. You grab us a table and I’ll order the food. Yo, Jack Jack!” she hollered, walking to the bar.

Belle sighed, sliding into one of the sticky booths. She’d forgone make-up entirely today, in case she cried at school. She didn’t… not that it was any consolation. She didn’t cry, and she didn’t see Rumford once. She avoided him. And she forgot lunch.

Ruby came back with two beers so full they dripped over her hands and onto the table.

“Okay, sunshine. Spill.”

“You seem to have done that for me,” Belle teased, grabbing a napkin to wipe the glass.

“You know what I mean. You’re hurting and I need to know whose face to punch.”

“Please don’t punch anyone on my account.”

“I’ll punch you if you don’t tell me what Gold did to you.”

Belle glared at her friend. “Who said it had to do with him?”

“I did. Look, I know you’ve been playing this close to the vest, whatever it is, and I get it. Relationships are messy…”

“It wasn’t a relationship.”

“No need to interrupt! As I was saying, not-relationships can be very messy. People get hurt. In this case, you got hurt. Keeping all that pain locked up is not gonna help, honey. You don’t have to talk to me, but you should talk to someone.”

Belle sighed. “How much do you know already?”

“I know what you’ve told me. He’s your best friend, you love his sense of humor and his intelligence… And I also know what you haven’t said. I know you’re in love with him.”

Belle slipped further down in her seat. “I’m pretty well screwed on that front, yeah.”

“So, he doesn’t know?”

“No. He doesn’t return my feelings.”

Ruby scoffed. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am. We… We did recently start sleeping together. I sort of ambushed him… and we decided to try it. But I must be crap in the sack, because he canceled our arrangement.”

“First of all, you’re being too harsh on yourself. Second, I’ve known you were fucking since the engagement party last month. And third, how does any of that mean he’s not in love with you?”

“Well, why would he want to stay just friends if he was in love with me?”

“Maybe to keep from getting hurt, if he thought his feelings were unreturned. The way you’re hurting now.”

Belle considered it for a moment before shaking her head. “No, no way. He doesn’t want a relationship. He told me so.”

“Did he?” Ruby leaned across the table. “Think really hard, Belle. Did he ever tell you, to your face, in those exact words, that he wasn’t interested in a relationship?”

She did think hard. She remembered the day they’d sat down and written out their rules. _If that’s all you want…?_ he’d asked. _Yes, that’s all I want._

“No, he didn’t, but I did. I told him I only wanted to add sex to our current friendship.”

“Wow. If you loved someone and they said that to you, how would you feel?”

“I’d be devastated.”

Ruby sat back, sipping her beer. “Ask me why I think he loves you.”

“Ok, why do you think he loves me?”

“Because he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room, in every room. During staff meetings, assemblies, any function where you two are in a crowd. He’s always looking at you. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the man. I think he’s a manipulative, greedy bastard and I hope that he suffers for all the pain and anxiety he’s inflicted on this town.” She sighed. “But he’s been better, the last few years. Gold A.B. – after Belle. You bring out the good in him.”

Belle sipped her drink, staring at the table. Ruby continued.

“When you left Gaston’s party, I talked to him.”

“About what?”

“You, of course. I threatened him. And he just nodded, understood that I was protecting you, and he left. And I realized that he was protecting you, too. He put on a fucking sombrero, for Christ’s sake! That man loves you, Belle, twisted imp that he is. And despite all the ill-will that I bear him, I hope that it works out for you. He makes you happy, and you make him good. It’s a fucking fairytale.”

Belle laughed. “I don’t know any fairytale princesses who ever felt this horrible.”

“Sure you do. There’s no reward if you don’t suffer first. Now, drink your beer, suffer for a few days, and make a game plan. And if one drink isn’t enough, I’m always here,” Ruby grinned wolfishly, downing the rest of her beer. “Catch up, buttercup!”

Belle smiled, and took a swig. “I could wash this down with some whiskey…”

“You got it! Where the fuck are our burgers? Jack Jack!” she hollered, heading towards the bar.

Belle considered. He might be in love with her. If he wasn’t… No, fuck that. She couldn’t possibly feel worse than she already did, and if Ruby was right… She had a lot to gain. She downed the beer.

* * *

It was almost 10 by the time Ruby and Belle staggered out of the Rabbit Hole.

“I’m calling Granny. She’ll give us a ride home.”

“No thanks,” Belle said with a giggle, pulling out her cell.

“You can’t drive, Belle!”

“I’m not gonna. I’m calling a cab.”

“Why do you need a cab? I can give you a … Oh. You’re not going home,” Ruby grinned. “Sneaky, sneaky! Ambush the rotten bastard, I say.”

“Thas what I’m gonna do,” Belle slurred, the phone ringing in her ear.

Twenty minutes later she was at his house, stumbling up to the door. She knocked. When there was no immediate answer, she knocked again louder.

Someone was coming.

She leaned against the wall beside the door so that when Gold opened it, he did a double take.

“Belle?”

“Is Bae here?”

“What are you-”

“Is Bae home?”

“No, he’s gone to a sleepover.”

“Good, because we’re having words.”

“Oh, we are?”

“Yes,” Belle said, stepping forward to face him. He smelled like scotch. She probably smelled worse.

“What about, precisely?”

“I want to know how you feel about me. The honest truth.”

“You know how I feel about you.”

“No, I know what you want me to know about how you feel about me, I don’t know how you actually feel about me.”

“Wait, what? Belle, how much have you had to drink?”

“I love you, you stupid idiot face! I am in love with you! And if you can’t handle that, well then,” she stopped mid-sentence, suddenly feeling unwell. “Uh oh…”

Rumford gaped for a moment, letting his brain catch up, until he registered that she was clutching her stomach and looking a little green.

“Oh no, come with me,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and steering her with rapidity towards the downstairs bathroom. She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, flinging up the lid, and Rumford gathered her hair away from her face.

She puked, stars dancing in front of her eyes. He held her hair in one hand and grabbed the stool he kept beneath the sink. Sitting beside her, he used his free hand to stroke over her back.

When she finished, Belle sat back and wiped her mouth. “I’m so sorry Rumford. This was an awful idea.”

“We can talk about that later. Do you remember what you had to drink?”

“A beer, a whiskey, then two vodka cranberries. I had a burger too, though, and a glass of water before we left.”

“Beer before liquor is never a good idea, darling. Do you feel like you have to throw up any more?”

“No, I think I’m done.”

“Okay. We’re gonna get you a glass of water and a piece of toast, and tuck you into the guest bedroom for the night.”

“No, I can’t do that to you. I’ve ambushed you enough... I’m sorry that I love you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, cupping her jaw, his thumb stroking over her cheek. “Please don’t apologize. We can talk about it in the morning, all right?”

“I might not be as brave in the morning.”

“Pretending to love me isn’t brave, Belle.”

She pulled away from him, face turning sour. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“You don’t love me, you’re drunk. When you sober up you’ll remember that I’m an old cripple with baggage. I can’t offer you a white picket fence, Dearie. I’m a monster. Pretending otherwise isn’t helping either of us.”

Belle struggled to her feet and shook her finger in his face. “Look here, Mister Gold, I am not faking anything so don’t you dare patronize me. And unless I’ve been drunk for the last three years, alcohol has nothing to do with how I feel about you. You don’t have to love me back, you don’t even have to be nice to me anymore if you don’t want to, but you don’t get to tell me how I feel. Only I decide how I feel. And I fucking love you, Rumford Gold. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call the cab company.”

She moved to step around him but he stood and caught her arm. “Wait, Belle…”

“Don’t Belle me with that Scottish brogue,” she huffed, pulling her arm free. Gold blocked the door.

“If you think that I’m not absolutely in love with you, then you’re an idiot, Ms. French. I have been devoted to you since you forced yourself into my life, and I will love you with every breath I take on this miserable planet. But you deserve better than a wretch with an adolescent son. You deserve someone who can match your positivity and your grace. I meant what I said. I’m a monster.”

“No you’re not, you’re just a man!” Belle said, sliding her hands up his chest. “I’ve never met anyone who hates themselves as much as you do. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Rum… let me help you carry it,” she pleaded, her hands settling on his neck.

He covered one of her hands with his, his own eyes tearing up. Slowly, he raised his walls. “Why would you love me? I don’t… I can’t believe it. I can’t, Belle. I’m sorry.”

She started to cry properly, then, pulling her hands back to her sides. She sucked in a breath before looking back up at him. “Okay. Okay… Then I’m going to kiss you goodbye, and call a cab. I was wrong, I can’t stay friends with you anymore. So this is goodbye, my beautiful Rumford,” she said, stroking his cheek one more time as she leaned up and kissed him. He put all of the things he couldn’t say into his lips and kissed her back.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to watch her leave.

About ten minutes later he heard the cab pull up, and she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is wrapping up! However I will be taking prompts over on my tumblr, Jadzias-Spots. A million thanks to all of you for reading and leaving comments. Much love!


	14. Don't Be A Hero

Rumford woke the next morning when he heard the door slam. Bae hollered for him, running up the stairs like a rhinoceros. Gold groaned. His head was pounding.

After Belle had left, he’d finished a fifth of scotch and fallen asleep on top of the covers, propped up at an angle that was proving quite painful. He winced as he stretched out, Bae running into the room.

“Hey Papa! Are you just waking up?”

“Mhmm,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m a bit of a lazy Larry this morning. How was your sleepover?”

“It was fun,” he said, climbing onto the bed. “The Fillmore twins got their heads stuck in the toilet. It was hilarious!”

Gold smiled at his boy, but judging by the way Bae tilted his head and frowned, it wasn’t very convincing. Rumford expected a speech from his charismatic son, but instead the boy just crawled to his side and hugged him.

They sat there for a while before Bae spoke. “Papa, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Did you love my mom?”

He considered for a minute, his hand running up and down over Bae’s back. “Yeah, we loved each other in our own way. Or we thought we did… It’s hard to say looking back.”

“Do you regret marrying her?”

“Of course not. I got you.”

“Can I ask you another question? And you promise not to get mad?”

“I promise not to turn into a fire-breathing dragon, if that’s what you mean.”

“How do your feelings for Belle compare to your feelings for my mother?”

Gold sighed. “When did you get so damn insightful?”

“If I can’t curse, you can’t curse.”

“Fine. My feelings for Belle… far outweigh what I felt for your mother. Belle makes me happy. But, uh…” he sighed. “Belle and I spoke last night. And it, it didn’t go well. I’m afraid I’m not the hero you want me to be.”

“You don’t need to be a hero, Papa. You just have to be yourself.”

“I think that was the problem. I’ve lost her, Bae. We’re not even friends anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. You must be miserable.”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make us some pancakes?”

“Why don’t you make the batter and cut some fruit, but wait for me to start the stove. Deal?”

“Deal!”

Gold tousled his son’s hair as the boy got up and bounded from the room. Rumford sighed again, raking a hand over his face. Grabbing his cane he limped to the bathroom, wondering how he’d ever gotten lucky enough to have such a brilliant child.

The following Monday he accidentally brought two lunches. Habit, probably. He briefly considered taking it to the librarian, but remembered her repeated request for time and space, so he left it in his bag.

When his door opened during his prep period, his traitor heart skipped a beat. But it wasn’t the librarian, of course, it was Ruby Lucas. He’d never especially cared for the argumentative woodshop teacher, but she wasn’t the worst of the bunch.

“What can I do for you, Miss Lucas?”

She stormed up to his desk and squared off, like she was entering battle. “I want to know what the fuck is wrong with you, you miserable old bastard.”

“Too many things to name, I’m sure.”

“You love Belle. She loves you. And still you manage to break her fucking heart. How does that even work? What kind of lunatic turns down a girl like that?”

“This is not an appropriate conversation to have at school and it’s certainly none of your business,” he growled.

“It is my business. She’s a good friend, and you hurt her.” Ruby sighed, crossing her arms. “I’ve been friends with her as long as you have, except I doubt she came to you for consolation when she broke up with Gaston.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Right. I’m the one who stayed up with her while she cried, bought chocolate ice cream and merlot, and drove her home when that asswipe slashed her tires. But I have never, NEVER seen her with a broken heart until now. YOU did that. So congratulations, you’re the worst person I’ve ever met.” She turned to leave, pausing at the door. “Oh, and you should know she’s transferring to the elementary school. Apparently they’ve been trying to get her for years, but she refused. Until now. Friday’s her last day.”

Gold felt a cold emptiness spreading through his chest. He’d spent the weekend reconciling himself to the fact that he’d only get glimpses of his love, in the hallway and at assemblies. He’d be reduced to “accidentally” bumping into her in the copy room and feeling his heart break every time she glared at him or looked at him with disgust.

But to not see her at all… that made him feel truly hollow. He could live with pain, but not with nothing.

His fingers moved over the piles of papers on his desk absentmindedly. Who could teach chemistry at a time like this? Seventh period would come soon, and he needed to be ready. But his mind continued to wander…

What if he could be the man Bae believed him to be? What if he could believe in Belle and her love? Well, that would make all the difference.

Why didn’t he, though? What was it that kept him from accepting her heart? She deserved better. She couldn’t really love a beast. He didn’t deserve her.

Piece by piece, he forced himself to refute the argument. _She deserved better._ To assume that he could decide what she did and didn’t deserve was, as she’d pointed out, patriarchal. It removed her agency, and it pissed her off. He had to respect her wishes, and she wished to be with him.

_She couldn’t really love a beast_. He wasn’t a beast. Gold made terrible choices and occasionally liked to provoke the townspeople, but he wasn’t a total monster. He was a good father, and a good teacher, and since Belle had come into his life, he’d started appreciating the gentleness and goodness of the world. He’d been somewhat nicer, in the last few years. He’d started distinguishing more often between the man and the Mask, and in her care, he’d even been able to give up the mask completely. She made him better. She made him a man.

_He didn’t deserve her_. Well, see previous! He was getting better, and he could try harder.

Still, still he was left with a ghost of doubt. It wasn’t like she had any ulterior motive to fake love, so why could he not wrap his head around it? Sighing, he leaned back and imagined her shelving books in the dusty library. The light illuminated her like a halo, and she was so, so radiant. He felt his heart thump with longing when she grinned at him, but as he moved to approach her, he felt a thump of a different kind.

He was afraid to pursue his dreams. If he could have Belle, he might die of happiness. Rumford had never been truly, truly happy before; what if he couldn’t hack it? What if he couldn’t make her happy? What if she left him, too?

The bell rang, pulling him from the dream and bringing a whole new clarity to all the mistakes he’d made in the last few weeks.

He wasn’t just a coward, he was _afraid_. He was afraid of happiness, and afraid of not meeting Belle’s expectations. And hadn’t he already decided to let her set her own expectations, and to try and be better for her?

His students shuffled in and he stood, autopilot taking over. Now, he had to be a teacher. But soon, very soon, he’d take the only option left that made any sense to him, the one Bae had proposed days ago. He was going to win her back.

* * *

 

“Come on Belle, try and lighten up. This is sort of your party,” Ruby chided, elbowing Belle in the ribs.

“If carrot sticks and sugar cookies a party make.”

“They do. Now I’m going to refill your punch while you mingle with this glorious staff for the last time.”

“Ruby, I’m still going to see them at district meetings.”

“Shhh I’m being dramatic. One of us has to!” she chirped, bouncing away towards the punch (and Archie Hopper). Belle sighed, recognizing that she might be a while, and went back for another cookie.

She couldn’t decide how she felt about Gold not showing up. A part of her would have liked to tear him apart in front of the whole school, but another part, a more sentimental side, wanted another goodbye. It was out of her hands, though, as the coward hadn’t shown.

Or so she thought, wiping crystallized sugar from her lip, when the library door banged open. He strode in every bit the dramatic hero, stopping right in front of her, less than a foot of air between them. Belle felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

“So Miss French, you’re transferring to the elementary school.”

“Yes Mr. Gold, I am.”

“And that will make you happy?”

“Absolutely. I’ll spend more time with children, and it’ll be a much more fun, engaging environment. It’s a wonderful position.”

“Then at 3:30 today, we cease being colleagues. By my watch it’s 3:29 and 45 seconds.”

“Does the exact time matter?”

“It does to me. 3:29 and 52 seconds.”

“Really Mr. Gold…”

“I hope you’ll forgive me for this. Three, two, and one. We are no longer colleagues.”

Gold brought his lips crashing down over hers and reached up to cradle her face in both hands, a demanding and passionate kiss that sent a tingle all the way down to her toes. Pulling away, he licked his lips. “I’m sorry for being a coward and an idiot. And I’m sorry for breaking your heart; it was never my intention. But I meant what I said. I love you with every fiber of my being, most ardently. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, because I don’t deserve it. But a very smart woman once pointed out how patronizing it is to tell a woman what she can or won’t do, so I leave it in your hands. Just know that I’ll love you just as much if you never speak to me again as I would if you were mine, heart, body, and soul.”

He tore his gaze from her for the first time, looking around the room. “I suppose I should apologize for humiliating you too. Ah, well, I’m going to go, now. Goodbye, Belle.” He stepped back, his eyes lingering on her lips, and then fled from the room like ogres were on his heels.

Belle was still standing, gawking, when Ruby came over to her a moment later.

“Woah. That was… That was kinda hot. I mean for a second I forgot what a dickbag he can be… I’m no expert on grand romantic gestures, but I feel like I’m the plucky best friend in a rom-com. You okay, Belle?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t- I gotta go,” she said, her feet carrying her fleetly after the spooked chemistry teacher. She found him down several hallways, leaning against the wall in a shadowy corner. Catching his breath. He looked surprised to see her.

“Belle?”

“Are you mine?”

“What?”

“Are. You. Mine?”

He swallowed, then looked at her with a sad smile. “Irrevocably. Totally. Yours.”

“And do you believe that I love you? Has something changed your mind since last week?”

“Aye. I realized that I was afraid. Afraid that I’d disappoint you, or that somehow, if I was ever truly happy, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. But that’s the most foolish type of fear- fear of something that will never happen if you don’t try. You’re the bravest person I know, Belle; I thought that with a little of your bravery, I’d try for happiness.”

“Rumford, you’re my best friend,” she said, starting to tear up. “And I love you. But you broke my heart. How do I know you won’t do it again?”

“You don’t. I’ll probably fuck up again, but I- I couldn’t let you go... Not without a fight.”

She walked to him, reaching one hand up to stroke over his neck and delve into his long hair, the other resting on his side. “That’s all I want,” she said, pressing her body against his. “I want the chance to have you break my heart over and over again. I want to _try_. Please, Rum?”

He wrapped one arm around her middle and the other stroked her cheek. “I think I made my feelings very clear when I attacked you in front of the entire staff.”

They shared a laugh. Rumford traced her smile lines with his thumb.

“So, we need to amend the terms of our relationship,” Belle said.

“Indeed. How about… Monogamous friends with benefits?”

“No, that’s too sterile. How about, Romantically-inclined partners in crime?”

“No, too nefarious. Maybe just partners?”

“Partners. Should we shake on it?”

“I think a kiss would do,” he said, tipping his head down to capture her lips.

They stayed that way for long minutes. Begrudgingly they returned to the library, but they went hand-in-hand. And they were both happy.


	15. EPILOGUE

Belle woke to the sound of the overture. Blinking sleepily, she recognized the title screen for tonight’s movie, _The Sound of Music_. Rumford’s arm tightened around her middle and Belle pressed back against him reflexively.

“Mmm, did I fall asleep?”

“Aye. And you’re not the only one; Bae’s out cold.”

“I guess that’s what happens when stuffy chemistry teachers pick the movie for Film Friday.”

He made a grumpy noise in her ear, kissing the skin beneath. “You loved ‘Sixteen Going on Seventeen’.”

“Not enough to stay awake.” Belle grinned. She stretched, sighing in contentment. “What time is it?”

“Probably eleven. I’ve been watching the title screen for a while.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Didn’t seem important.”

“Well then, if it wasn’t important to you,” she muttered sarcastically. “I better get home.”

“Stay here,” he cajoled, nuzzling the side of her neck.

“No way. Bae’s here.”

“He won’t mind. You have no idea the lectures I got from that child on how best to woo you…”

“Rumford, he’s barely eleven. I don’t want him to resent me. I’m not his mother.”

“Sleep in the spare room, then. But I promise you, he’s a very smart boy who not only knows that we’re together, but actively worked to bring us together. He also adores you, Belle. You’ve been coming over twice a week for six months now. I think you’ve earned sleepover privileges.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s my turn to be the little spoon,” he whispered, placing repeated kisses along her jaw and the spot beneath her ear. When he pulled her earlobe between his teeth and nipped it, Belle shivered, her hips rolling against his.

“Nope, no, no,” she said, leaping up from the couch and turning to face him. “I’ll take the spare room. That’s it.”

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Waffles. Should we wake Bae?”

“No,” Gold said, sitting up and stretching. “He’s getting so big. I want to carry him while I still can.” He stood and scooped up his son, who was curled up and snoring lightly in an armchair. Belle followed him up the stairs, continuing into the master suite while Gold disappeared into his son’s room.

She had a small bag of clothes in Rumford’s closet. Pulling out some shorts and a tank top, she changed, happy to have her bra off for the night. Rumford came up behind her, stealthy despite his age and slight limp. He held her by the hips, swaying from side to side, pressing kisses to her temple and down her neck.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to sleep here?”

“I’m sure,” she said, leaning against his chest.

He toyed with the hem of her tank top, slowly sliding his hand up to cup a breast. “Aren’t you glad you had extra clothes?”

“Mhmm.”

“You know, you could have more clothes here. I can make space, move some of mine to the spare room... You could bring your books, too, so you always have something to read. You could bring over anything you like.”

“But then all my stuff would be here.”

“…That’s sort of the point.”

“Rumford Gold, are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Belle turned to look at him, swatting his hands away. “Did I not say just ten minutes ago that I’m worried about Bae resenting me for the space I’m taking in your life?”

Gold sighed, pouting ever so slightly. “Fine. I’ll ask him what he thinks over breakfast. I guarantee he’s going to support the idea.”

“You’re absurd. Your eleven year old son does not want his dad’s girlfriend to move in.”

“We’ll just see about that,” he said, sliding an arm around Belle’s waist and drawing her close. “It’s been too long since I’ve had you in my bed...” He leaned down for a kiss, but Belle sidestepped and scurried to the doorway.

“Goodnight, you wicked man.”

“Goodnight, my beauty.” He watched her go and groaned, palming his budding erection through his pants. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 

“Mornin’ Bae,” Rumford said, brogue thick in the early light. He stirred the waffle batter. Bae hopped up onto a clear spot on the counter.

“I missed the end of the movie.”

“You did. So did Belle. The two of you snored like drunk wildebeests.”

“We did not. When’s she coming over again?”

“She’s still here. She slept in the spare room.”

“Really? Is she having breakfast with us?!”

“Mhmm. She asked for waffles. The batter is ready, so I’m gonna start making them; why don’t you go wake her?”

“Okay!” He hopped off the counter and Rumford heard him running up the stairs. Minutes later he came back down, a sleepy Belle in tow. He had her by the hand and dragged her to a seat at the counter island.

“Morning,” Rumford greeted her.

“Good morning.”

“Your waffles will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you sleep OK Belle?” Bae asked, grabbing the whipped cream container from the fridge and a handful of silverware.

“I did! I hope you don’t mind me staying over.”

“Of course not. Papa loves it when you come over. And you have great taste in movies.”

“Thank you, Bae. You have good taste too. But I don’t think we should let your dad pick movies anymore.”

“Hey now! That’s hardly fair!”

“I’m sorry Rum, but it’s the truth.”

“Yeah Papa. Belle and I are the fun ones.”

“Fine,” Gold said, pulling a golden waffle from the hot iron. “I concede to being the fuddy-duddy. Here’s the first waffle.”

“You should take it, Bae.”

“Nah, we’ll split it.”

Belle grinned as they split the waffle in half, spooning whipped cream onto hers with gusto.

They ate, sharing mischievous grins.

“Want a bite?” Belle lifted a piece up to Rumford, who took it from her with his teeth. She laughed as he chewed messily. “You’ve got a little whipped cream, just there,” she said pointing to the corner of his mouth.

“Where?” he asked, leaning over the counter.

“There.”

“Where?”

He was inches away, but he waited for her to close the gap. Pressing her lips softly against his, they kissed.

When they parted, Bae was blushing and grinning like the cat who got the canary. Gold pulled another waffle from the iron.

“Hey Belle?”

“Yeah Bae?”

“Are you going to move in with us?”

Belle’s eyes, wide and awake, shot to Gold.

“I didn’t say anything!” Rumford exclaimed, putting both hands up in the air.

Belle cleared her throat, turning back to the boy. “Why do you ask, Bae?”

“Because my friend Jeffrey’s parents divorced last year, and he already has a step-mom. I figured that my dad was alone a lot longer than that, and you guys have been together for almost a year I think, and you were friends even before that… so I guess I just wondered if you were ever going to move in.”

“Is that something you’d be okay with? I don’t want you to feel like I’m intruding in your family, or taking your dad away from you.”

Bae just shrugged. “You’re a part of my family, Belle. Aren’t I part of yours?”

Rumford could see the swell of love in Belle’s eyes, as well as a tear or two trying to come out.

“Yeah, yeah you are.”

“Besides, if you lived here we could bake banana bread! And we could play Mario Kart, and you could finish reading the Harry Potters with me; I love when you do the voices.”

Belle laughed, reaching an arm around Bae’s shoulders to pull him in for a hug. He nestled into her side like he belonged there. They shared a quiet moment, and Rumford felt tears of his own pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Bae pulled away, Rumford dropping a waffle onto his plate. “Now all we gotta do is get Papa to ask you, then you could move in for real.”

“I have asked her, as a matter of fact. I don’t _always_ need romantic guidance from my eleven year-old.”

Bae’s face lit up. “So you’re moving in?!”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. That’s a big step for a couple.”

Bae rolled his eyes, attacking his breakfast. “You’re gonna move in. I’m sure of it.”

“That makes one of us,” Rumford mumbled, glancing at Belle. She gave him a pointed look, her lips drawn into a line.

“There’s no need to pout, Rum.”

“My darling, every day without you is as torturous as a hike through the Sahara.”

“I hardly think that’s a fair comparison.”

“It’s like swimming upstream. Like trying to breathe on the moon. Like… like…”

“Like this conversation?”

“Oh, you’ve wounded me,” Rumford said, dramatically clutching his chest. He pulled a waffle from the iron and tried to pass it to Belle, who pushed it back across the counter. She also handed him a fork.

“I’m not hungry, take it.”

“I don’t give a toss if you’re hungry. You need breakfast, and I’ve already had some. Eat.”

He rolled his eyes but acquiesced.

“Oh, by the way Papa, Grace invited me to hang out with them today. We’re gonna ride bikes around the park and maybe go watch movies at her house.”

Rumford started to say something with his mouth full of waffle.

“I can’t understand you so I’m gonna go get dressed!” Bae said, hopping off the barstool and sprinting upstairs.

Gold chewed quickly and swallowed, but the boy was gone. “That little sneak.”

“Are you going to let him go?”

“Probably. He just didn’t want me to ask him if Emma Swan is going to be there.”

“Nosy.”

“Turnabout’s fair play!”

“Come here,” Belle said, curling her finger in the air. Rumford leaned over the counter. Sliding her hand into his hair, she pulled him in for a kiss. She moved her lips against his tenderly, until he was good and distracted. “Let Bae go with his friends. I don’t need to go home anytime soon.”

Rumford perked up. “Oh, that is tempting, Miss French.”

She smacked his arm.

“Ow!”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Would you prefer Mrs. Gold?”

She smacked him again.

“Ow! You’ve got to stop doing that!”

“Then you’ve got to stop teasing me about my name. I waited years to hear you call me Belle, not just on the rare occasion but all the time. I want to hear you say it.”

“Belle. Belle, light of my life. Belle, queen of my heart…” He stole another kiss, and another, while a sweet pink blush spread across her cheeks.

“You’re such a dork, Rum.”

“You love it.”

Bae came bounding down the stairs again, disrupting their moment.

“Do you have your cell phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yeah.”

“What time will you be back?”

“Maybe 3 or 4?”

“Call me at 1 to check in or I’ll drive around town until I find you.”

“Got it, Papa.”

“Have fun,” he said, hugging Bae to his chest. “But not too much fun.”

“Bye dad. Bye, Belle!” The boy raced around the counter and flung his arms around her. She hugged him back.

“See ya later, Bae.”

“Bye!” he hollered on his way out the door.

Belle watched him go. When she looked up at Gold, he was staring at her hungrily. They had a rule against devouring each other until Bae had been out of the house a full sixty seconds, in case he forgot something and came back. Gold started to count.

“One… two… three…”

Belle slipped from the stool. She felt like a gazelle stalked by a lion; his intense stare followed her as she moved around the counter. He reached for his cane as she took slow, deliberate steps through the kitchen.

“Ten… eleven… twelve…”

He started to follow her. “Waffle iron,” Belle said, peeking back through the doorway.

“Ah shit,” Rumford said, turning to unplug the thing. “Thirteen… fourteen…”

With a laugh Belle took off, sprinting out into the entryway and up the stairs.

He growled and chased her. He was halfway to the second story when he heard his bedroom door slam shut.

“Twenty-four… twenty-five… twenty-six…”

The door didn’t resist when he pushed it open. The room appeared empty. He listened for breathing or giggles, but couldn’t make out either. He prowled about, peering into the bathroom and under the bed.

“Thirty-seven… thirty-eight… thirty-nine…”

Throwing open the closet door, he found her. She squealed and tried to bolt around him but he grabbed her by the middle. “GOTCHA!”

Belle screamed with laughter as he dropped his cane and bent down, catching her with both arms under the butt and lifting, heaving her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Rumford! Put me down! No, that tickles!”

He climbed onto the bed before lowering her down, pulling her legs to spread her beneath him. She wriggled and giggled. He pinned her to the mattress with his body, setting his lips to work on her neck. She delved her hands into his hair, rolling her hips up against his slowly hardening erection.

“Oh Gods, yes,” she purred.

He scraped his teeth over her clavicle, making her back arch and press into his chest. Leaning all his weight on one arm, he dragged a hand up over her chest, palming her breasts through her shirt. He licked and sucked a path up her neck to her jaw before moving along to her mouth. He pulled her lower lip between his, moving into a sloppy kiss.

Belle tore her hands from his hair to gather his t-shirt in her fists, yanking the cotton up his lithe body. He refused to move, the shirt catching in his armpits. She groaned and let go, moving her hands down over his back and grazing his skin with her nails

He growled her name against her lips, kneading her breast and rocking his hips against her. “Belle… Belle… _Belle_! I need you. I need all of you!”

“Ditto,” she replied, pushing at his chest. He sat up on his knees and they both yanked off their shirts, reconnecting with a bump of the teeth in their haste. Gold ripped himself from her mouth in order to crawl down her body, wrapping his lips around a nipple. His hand moved to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin with his nails before kneading it.  

Belle raked her hands through his hair, bringing up her knees to squeeze his sides. He circled her nipple with his tongue before sucking on it, making a moaning sound that drove Belle wild.

“You’re bloody perfect, Belle,” he groaned, placing kisses all across her chest. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

She squirmed, reaching down and around him to grapple with her shorts. “I can’t take these off with you there,” she said, hips bucking as he grazed his teeth over a nipple.

“That’s too bad.”

“Rumford!”

He tore himself away from her breasts, curling his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He hooked her panties too, and tugged them down until she could kick them off. As soon as he was within reach, Belle grabbed his shoulders and flipped them, straddling his thighs. She pulled his pajama pants down just enough to free his cock, taking it in hand.

He hissed, thrusting into her gentle touch. She took her other hand and licked her palm, wrapping it around the base of his shaft. With the slickness of her saliva, she continued to stroke him to full hardness; one hand wandered down to cup his balls.

“I want you in me, Rum. Are you ready?”

“Gods, yes.”

Belle moved forward until she could line them up, gasping as the head of his hard cock brushed her clit. She sank down, her pussy sliding easily over him. She moaned, tilting her hips to get comfortable.  “Oh fuck, that’s so good… You fit me perfectly.”

“You’re so wet, Belle,” he said, his hands rubbing her hips. “How are you always so wet?”

“My man takes care of me,” she purred, leaning down to kiss him. “He’s so handsome, and funny, and intelligent... just hearing him say my name sends a shiver down my spine.”

He dragged one hand up her body to squeeze a pert breast. “I should meet this man, learn his ways.”

“Try a mirror,” she whispered, pulling his lower lip between hers and rocking her hips.

“Ah fuck,” he rasped between kisses. He bucked his hips, shallow thrusts at this angle, and rolled her nipple between his fingers.

Belle moaned, pushing herself up to a seated position. She rode him, hands braced on his torso. At first she kept with their shallow thrusts, rolling her hips in time with the rhythm. She enjoyed the feeling of his cock filling her, the snap of his balls against her ass, but if she ever wanted to climax (and oh lord, did she need a climax) then she would have to ride him harder. Putting more weight on her knees, Belle rose up higher and came down with more force on each stroke. Rumford groaned, his cock nearly slipping out of her before being driven back in.

“My Belle… My beautiful Belle…”

“Yours,” she panted, putting her hand over his on her hip, twining their fingers together. “I’m yours.”

His other hand found hers on his abdomen and clutched it. He thrust up as she came down, intensifying each collision for the both of them. Belle tipped forward slightly and cried out as the new angle sent him straight to her g-spot; her body trembled as Rumford sped up his thrusts, a raw cry ripped from her throat.  

“Rum, Rum, RUM!”

Her pussy clenched around him. Spent, she collapsed to his chest, and Rumford wrapped his arms around her in order to roll them. He nuzzled her cheek with his nose, waiting for permission to continue. Stretching and opening her legs, she ran her hands along his spine and nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He resumed motion, sliding in and out of her with care. She collected sloppy kisses as his hands gathered the comforter in his fists and beads of sweat dripped down his temples. Soon all he could do was kiss her, feel the satin pressure of her lips on his, the taste of waffles and sugar on her tongue, her silky wetness enveloping his cock as he pistoned in and out of her wet cunt.

With a ragged cry he pulled back to look at her, his eyes wide with reverence, and he spilled himself inside his Belle.

Now it was his turn to be spent. He curled around her and rolled them onto their sides, pulling her into a close embrace. Nuzzling her cheek, he emitted a low, gravelly purr. He could tell from her deep breathing that she was on the edge of sleep already, so he nudged her foot with his own.

“Love, move in with me.”

“Ave’nt made up my mind.”

“Your exhaustion strokes my ego, truly, and I’ll follow you into a blissful post-coital nap, but first, say you’ll move in with me.”

“Why’s it so important to you?” she asked, pressing more deeply into his embrace but not opening her eyes.

“Think of all the sex we could have.”

“With Bae in the house? Unlikely. We might even have less sex. Try again.”

“Bae loves you.”

“Bae loves horses, but you don’t have one in the house. Next.”

“Because I was honest with you before. I hate being apart from you. You’re the only person I seem to be able to stand who isn’t already blood related to me, and I’ve become addicted to you. I long for you every moment we’re apart, and even if you moving in here means we never have sex again, I still want it more than I can say.”

“Not never… just until Bae goes to college.”

Rumford laughed, burying his face in her hair. “Why won’t you move in with me?”

“Because… I don’t want to lose my independence.”

“What am I, a shackle?”

It was her turn to laugh. “No. But what if we fight and I need to storm off? Where will I go?”

“There’s a library in this big ol’ house, you know. And an attic, and a basement, and a garden out back…”

“What if we break up? Then it’s even messier, and Bae is involved.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. You’re not Bae’s mother, but you love him and I love him and we’d both do whatever it takes to protect him from our own entanglements, no matter how messy they may be. Besides, do you really see us breaking up? We’re almost five years in already.”

“Six months. Friendship doesn’t count.”

“It counts for everything. You’ve known me this long and you still like me. We could go forever.”

Belle sighed. “You make some compelling arguments.”

“Move in with me. You can leave the place a mess, throw parties every Friday night, whatever. I don’t care. I just don’t want to be apart from you any longer than is strictly necessary ever again.”

She blinked sleepily, tilting her head back to look at him. “You really love me, don’t you?”

“Of course. I don’t say it just to be polite.”

She pondered a moment, twitching her nose to the side. “Okay. I’ll move in with you.”

“…Really?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“It is, I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“No! Not in the slightest,” he said, kissing her. “What changed _your_ mind?”

“I love you more than reason should allow. You make me happy beyond measure. And I know that you love me too, you show me all the time, but this… this incredible stubbornness really proved it. I know how I feel when we’re apart, and now I know that you feel it too. So of course I’ll move in with you. If you’ll have me.”

He grinned from ear to ear and kissed her again, kissed her until he felt dizzy. Then he pulled back, still smiling, and nestled her closer to his chest.

“We’ll hire movers as soon as you’re ready.” He gave a yawn, reaching for a blanket. Belle smacked him lightly in the chest.

“Oh, so I can’t fall asleep, but you can?”

“I’m feeling very relaxed now.”

“And I’m wide awake. And it’s your fault,” she muttered, biting his shoulder. One hand snaked down to tease the hairs beneath his navel. “I think I’ll make you pay.”

He groaned. “Is that a promise?”

“Definitely.”

Rumford grinned. Grabbing the edge of the comforter he lifted it and rolled, covering Belle’s body with his and covering both of them with the blanket. This would prove to be a very favorable arrangement, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks and kisses to all of you who have been reading, kudos-ing, and commenting! I've really appreciated your support. 
> 
> I will be taking prompt for this 'verse on my tumblr, jadzias-spots, so send me an ask! Don't be shy :)


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